There and Gone Again
by Eydris Ivo
Summary: Kyna, an ER nurse, deals with life and death nearly every day. Little does she know that her own life may be at risk when she totals her SUV after a night shift and ends up in a completely different place when she wakes up, a place that shouldn't even exist beyond the pages of her favourite book. Here she comes face to face with Thranduil and his son, Legolas. (Thranduil/OC)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - An Unfortunate Accident**

_Author's Note: Although There and Gone Again is written heavily with the lore provided in Tolkien's work in mind, it is a combination of both of the movies and the books. I have supplemented my knowledge of Tolkien's work (I've been a fan since I very young age) with scenes and aspects from the movies where I believed they fit well._

"Are you reading that _again_?" Melinda shifted on the couch in the break room, tossing her cutlery into the empty container in front of her. She put the lid on, running her fingers around the edges to seal it.

"Yeah," Kyna replied, turning another page and keeping her eyes on the book. "What's it to you?" Her eyes darted to Melinda for a quick moment before returning to the page.

"Isn't it a kid's book? You're twenty eight, aren't you?" Melinda prodded, brushing some of the crumbs off of her scrubs as she stood. She walked to the sink and began to wash her hands. "You read it every year at this time. Don't you get sick of it?"

"Again," Kyna quipped, raising an eyebrow and brushing a strand of jet black hair away from her ice blue eyes, "what's it to you?"

"I just think you're funny, that's all." Melinda adjusted her blonde pony-tail, tucking away small strands that had become loose. "Maybe that's why you're still single, Ky. It's been three years since you broke off the engagement. Stop spending so much time reading and more time meeting people."

It was true. It had been three years now, but Kyna just hadn't had the urge to start seeing people again. It had taken a lot to finally break it off with Rick. His emotional abuse became too much to handle, and he had berated her for everything. When his behavior had taken an erratic turn, she had decided to call off the wedding. Thankfully, she hadn't heard from him since.

It wasn't hard to cancel the wedding on such short notice. They had planned a small ceremony consisting of mostly Rick's family. Kyna's parents had died in a car accident when she was six, and she had lived with her grandparents until she went off to university for nursing. Needless to say, not many invitations were sent out.

"I'm just not interested in seeing anyone right now. Besides, have you even bothered to read it?" Kyna shut the book, glancing at the clock that ticked loudly on the far wall of the room. She ran her fingers over the words on the cover before tossing it into her bag.

_The Hobbit. _

"It's a kid's book. I'll wait until the movies all come out on BluRay." Melinda rolled her eyes, drying her hands off and adjusting the stethoscope around her neck.

"I just don't get how you can read the same thing so many times."

"It's literature."

Her mother had introduced her to the book when she was five, reading it to her on a nightly basis. It was almost as though she could hold onto a piece of her parents by reading it every year.

"I have better things to do than read about elves and hobos."

"Hobbits," Kyna corrected, standing from the chair and pushing it back to it's place at the table. She tossed her bag on the counter. "It's better than that Fifty Shades of Grey crap you're reading."

"Whatever," the blonde huffed, changing the subject. "Did you get that trauma settled? What was the issue?"

"Pneumothorax, multiple rib fractures, and a ruptured spleen. Guy is lucky as hell." Kyna slipped her fingers into her hair, working the long ebony strands into a tight braid before coiling it into a bun at the nape of her neck.

"Christ, did you find out what happened?" Melinda walked towards the door, her hand resting on the handle as she awaited Kyna's answer.

"Drunk driver in a pick-up versus a pole. He's lucky he didn't kill anyone else." Kyna turned the faucet on, running her hands underneath the warm water. She squirted some soap into her palms and worked it over her skin.

"At least you didn't have to intubate him."

"Don't even say it." Kyna rolled her eyes and shook her head. "We have two hours until shift change. Don't jinx it, Melinda. You know we're shit magnets."

"At least it's not a full moon." Melinda slipped out the door, leaving Kyna alone in the break room. The door clicked softly as it shut.

"No shit," Kyna muttered to herself, drying her hands off. It had been a long set, and Kyna was on her last night. She glanced to the clock. It read ten to five in the morning. Two hours left and then she could crawl into her bed. She felt a wave of euphoria wash over her just imagining her head hitting the pillow.

She grabbed her bag and tossed it into a nearby locker, slamming it shut behind her. The door closed softly behind her as she slipped through it and headed down the white sterile hallways of the hospital. It was a relatively quiet night, and the few patients they had snored quietly in their beds. She glanced at her watch as she entered the main area.

"Kyna! He's coding!"

She blinked as she heard her name called across the department, directing her eyes towards the voice. People were breaking into a full run, a blur of scrubs and lab coats all gathering in a single room opposite the nursing station.

"Shit!" Kyna cursed, moving into a sprint towards the room.

As she passed the nursing station she called out to the woman who sat attentively at the desk. "Call a code blue, Jean, and get respiratory here, STAT!"

"Absolutely," the clerk replied, picking up her phone with lightning quickness. Only seconds had passed before the announcement was blaring over the intercom.

When Kyna entered the room, Melinda was already doing chest compressions, her hands moving rhythmically downwards on the patient's chest . The pressure caused his belly to rise dramatically, like a balloon being inflated. His lips had already started to turn a sickly blue shade, and the colour was starting to spread to the rest of his skin.

She quickly took her place at the bedside, pulling out a sheet of paper to begin the recording process. Her eyes flicked to the monitor at the patients side, and she began her documentation as responders started to fill the room. She felt adrenaline take over as the team worked together in a combination of chaos and order.

_Compressions, check. Airways, check._ Her pen moved fluidly along the paper. _Amiodarone 300mg, check. _As each voice spoke around her, she continued to write, always aware of the steady beating of her own heart in the background. Time was passing, but she was unaware of how quickly or slowly it moved. All she knew was the words on the paper, and the need to capture the steady discussion around her.

"Does anyone else have any other ideas?" one of the Doctors asked, looking around the room.

The patient was motionless on the stretcher, most of the colour drawn from his skin. Melinda's cheeks were flushed red from the effort of the compressions, her chest heaving quickly as she waited for further instruction. Beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks and into her eyes, causing a few errant strands of hair to stick to her skin. The monitor continued to push out a dull tone, the line moving completely horizontal on the screen.

"Call it."

Kyna watched her pen strokes as they slid along the paper. _Time of death: 0515 hrs. _

* * *

><p><em>Thank god for shift change, <em>Kyna thought. The night had seemed to go on forever, and that code hadn't helped things. She was absolutely exhausted and could feel the heaviness slowly creep over her eyelids. She slipped through the doors of the Emergency entrance, her bag thrown over her shoulder.

Snow was falling steadily, accumulating quite quickly on the ground. There must have been about six inches already. It was pretty, sparkling in the light of the street lamps that lit the parking lot. The air was cold, and there was a slight wind that nipped at her nose, turning it red. She shivered slightly, surveying the parking lot for her green Nissan Pathfinder.

"Have a good sleep, Ky," Melinda stepped in beside her, bundled in a thick blue parka.

"You too, Mel. Have a safe drive, hey? It looks nasty out there." Kyna nodded, pulling her jacket closer around her neck.

"Yeah, I will for sure. Are you back tonight?"

"Nope," Ky shook her head, relief on her face. "I'm on my off days, thank god. After tonight, I don't know if I'd want to come in and do it all over again."

"No kidding," Mel agreed, stepping off the curb and into the parking lot. She waved one last time as she vanished into the sheet of snow.

_Ah, there you are._ Kyna spotted her SUV, and headed in it's direction. It was a good vehicle and handled quite well in the snow, which she apparently was going to need this morning. After brushing off the snow from her windshield, she climbed into the vehicle and started the drive home.

Driving after nights had always been a bit of a struggle for Kyna. Her eyelids would often try to shut of their own accord, and it took all of her focus just to stay awake on the drive home. She had tried all the tricks, open windows, eating an apple, loud music, yet she would often find herself drifting off, especially after the last night-shift of a set.

The sun had yet to rise, but streaks of hazy dawn could been seen on the horizon. Kyna focused on the gauzy light that peeked above the mountains, making their snow tipped heights seem more ominous than usual. The roads were terrible, as the plows had yet to catch up with the overnight snowfall. She drove slowly along the highway, doing her best to not slide around precariously. Crossing the center line could be disastrous.

Kyna reflected on the night's events. She hadn't lost a patient in a long while. The man had no next of kin listed, and no known relatives. Maybe that was why he was drinking and driving. Was that her fate—dying alone without anyone at her side? She always figured herself a strong woman. There was really little choice when you end up navigating the world alone. She didn't completely mind it. In a way, it was nice not having to answer to anyone, and she was always free to do her own thing. However, there were times she felt the twinge of loneliness deep in her heart.

Even though Rick had put her through hell, she sometimes missed having someone else in the apartment. She got a good deal of her social interaction through work, but missed that stronger connection that existed between two people. Kyna had always settled, and couldn't remember the last time she felt a true spark of passion. Hell, the only reason she agreed to marry Rick was that she knew she was getting older. Sure, she had feelings for him, but he didn't make her feel the way she believed she should feel in that situation.

She glanced over to the passenger seat, her eyes momentarily resting on her dogged eared copy of _The Hobbit_. It could be worse. She had a good job, a group of friends, and lots of books. She even made the effort to go out with the girls on various occasions.

When her eyes returned to the road, Kyna gasped. A white light filled her vision, the brightness causing her to squint and look away. At first she thought it must have been the snow intensifying and reflecting off her headlights, but the light continued to grow brighter and eventually encompassed the entire interior of the SUV. She felt as though she was pummeling forward and began to panic as the road vanished completely.

Kyna desperately clung to the steering wheel, taking her foot off the gas and trying to figure out what to do. At that moment something large slammed into the front of the vehicle, stopping it abruptly and causing her to violently lurch forward. Her head snapped forward, smashing into the steering wheel. The last thing she felt before blackness overcame her was the throbbing in her head and the warm feeling of blood trailing down her cheek.

* * *

><p>"Bring more athelas," a voice spoke, rousing Kyna from the blackness that was her thoughts. She heard the shuffling of footsteps fade away, as if someone was leaving.<p>

The throbbing pain persisted in her head, pounding relentlessly against her eyelids like the steady beating of a drum. She brought a hand to her face, noting the absence of the blood that was there before. It had been wiped clean from her face. Her fingers trailed over a substantial wound in her forehead that stretched at least a couple of inches.

"I need stitches," she murmured, opening her eyes slowly.

The environment wasn't one she recognized. Trees towered above her, taller than any she had seen before. Everywhere she looked, the trees and foliage stretched for what seemed like forever. There was no sign of street lamps, power lines, or any civilization. The air was balmy against her face, a dramatic difference from the chill that was evident when she left work. It was night, and she could see the faintest smattering of stars against the blanket of darkness.

"You need to lie still," the voice continued.

Kyna felt a gentle touch on the side of her face, and she turned towards it. A pair of striking light blue eyes met hers. A man was crouched in front of her, dressed in clothing of green and brown, trimmed with various designs. An ornate bow was slung on his back, accompanied by a quiver of arrows. Long golden hair, nearly silver in the starlight, stretched down his back. The top half was pulled away from his face, likely making it easier to manage. His skin was fair and smooth, almost ethereal, and his pointed ears garnered her attention immediately.

Kyna sat up quickly, batting his hand away and shuffling backwards. She glanced around apprehensively. There was no sign of her SUV, or her bag for that matter. She glanced down. At least she recognized her scrubs and her black wool jacket.

"Who are you?" she questioned, her vision still darting around. "Where the hell am I?"

"I am Legolas Greenleaf," he replied, sitting back on his heels to watch her. "And, you are in the Woodland Realm, ruled by my father, King Thranduil." He paused in contemplation, glancing around the area before looking at her with a bemused expression.

"You have to be shitting me," Kyna felt the fingers of panic grip her tightly. "This has to be a dream."

"It is no dream," Legolas spoke softly. "I think the better question is, who are you and where exactly are you from? I've never seen clothing like that."

"Prince George," she answered flatly, still looking around her. She felt as though she was about to lose it.

"Prince who?" The elf asked, raising a brow, his eyes never leaving her. "Is this a place? I've never heard of it."

"Dammit." Kyna starting hitting her leg, increasing the intensity of each slap until her skin started to sting.

"What are you doing?" the elf whispered, raising both his brows in disbelief.

"Trying to wake up."

"You are awake."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Legolas stood, adjusting the two white handled knives sheathed on his back. "And, you are to come with me. I am to bring you to my father."

"What does he intend to do with me?" Kyna asked, swallowing the lump in her throat. She pushed herself to standing, brushing dirt and foliage from her scrubs. She really needed a shower.

"I can't see why you would be a threat out here all by yourself," he answered, almost chuckling, "especially dressed like that. However, I don't claim to know my father's mind. He will decide for himself if you are a threat."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2****: Woodland King **

The King of the Woodland Realm, Thranduil, sat in quiet trepidation on the large wooden throne that towered in the center of the cavernous hall that was the seat of his kingdom. His face was much like the stone that rose around him, his carved jaw clenching tightly as he went through his thoughts with a calculating quickness.

His tall, lean form was garbed in ankle length sage coloured robes that seemed to absorb the light and reflect it outwards. The fabric, as fine as it was, could not conceal his broad shoulders and finely honed physique. His skills as a warrior could not be denied. Straight flaxen hair fell upon his shoulders, neatly groomed and ornamented with a crown of berries, twigs, and autumnal leaves.

Pale blue eyes, capped with full and dark brows, gazed forward, not focusing on anything particular. They would only flick upwards when a sound would echo through the chamber. This time that sound was the footsteps of his son, Legolas, entering the great hall. To any other the sound would be inaudible, but Thranduil's pointed ears easily picked it up.

Thranduil's hand was wrapped tightly around an ornate oaken staff, the tips of his long, gem laden fingers tapping impatiently against the grain of the wood. The threat of the spiders that encroached on his lands had intensified as of late, making Mirkwood more and more dangerous and pushing his people further into their cavernous homes. They fought with all their effort, but with each victory, only more creatures would appear. It troubled him greatly. He could not negate the dark, foreboding sentiment that swirled within him, giving him a constant sensation of uneasiness.

"What news do you bring me, son?" Thranduil spoke, his voice echoing fluidly through the chambers. He leaned forward ever so slightly as Legolas approached the throne.

"The activity of the spiders remains unchanged for now. We maintain our current position, Father." Legolas responded, straightening after offering a small bow. He stood silently after that, stepping up the stairs to stand at his father's side.

"I see," the king's smooth voice continued. He shifted in the throne, fabric rustling around him.

"There is more," Legolas offered, garnering his father's blue gaze.

"More?" Thranduil's brows rose in interest, and he leaned a bit further in his seat.

"Yes," Legolas continued, folding his hands behind his back and pacing back and forth in front of the throne. "We found something—someone on our patrols, a human woman."

"A human woman, you say?" His interest waned at that moment, and he leaned backwards until he hit the throne. "What makes you think that garners any attention? You sent her on her way, I presume? The forest is dangerous to wanderers." He paused for a moment, running a finger along the smooth line of his chin. "Where was she from?"

"That's the interesting thing," Legolas mused, stopping directly in front of the throne. "She was wearing clothing like nothing I've ever encountered before. I asked her where she was from. She responded in nonsense, making no sense at all. She says she's from Prince George."

"Who?' Both of Thranduil's dark brows rose in puzzlement. "I'm not aware of any Prince George."

Legolas paused for a moment. "She says it's a place. The woman thought everything around her was all a dream."

"She's mad then." Thranduil allowed the faintest chuckle to escape his throat. "Did you put her out of her misery?"

"No, I do not believe her to be mad. She didn't act the way most do when their minds are lost." Legolas's face became serious, not reflecting any of the amusement his father had displayed. "We found her unconscious in a heap just outside these very caverns. The woman was injured. It was a grievous wound that bled for some time before we were able to stop it."

"I see." Thranduil's face immediately morphed back into a grave expression, the smooth lines of his features highlighted in the dim light of the cavern. "If this is enough to warrant your caution, Legolas, then I will trust your judgment. The fact that she was so close garners our attention. I assume you brought her with you?"

"I did, yes."

"Fetch her then. Bring her to the dungeons. I will deal with her there." Thranduil settled back into a comfortable position, pulling the oak staff down against his lap.

"The dungeons?" Legolas looked conflicted, even a bit surprised. "Do you think that's necessary? She's unarmed and injured, surely no threat."

Thranduil's silvery gaze darkened, regarding his son thoughtfully. "Dark times are upon us, my son. Everything is a threat at this point. How did this woman get past your patrols and so close to our home? That is the question that lays forefront in my mind at this moment."

Legolas exhaled, averting his eyes for a moment as if in his own thoughts. Finally, he spoke, "You have a point, however extreme I think your actions may be."

"We treat our prisoners well, do we not?" The king stood to his full height, a truly intimidating form.

"We do," Legolas agreed.

Thranduil stepped towards Legolas, the train of his robes trailing behind him like a river. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Legolas. Bring her to the dungeon. I will be there presently."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Light Grows Dimmer**

Kyna stood apprehensively with a group of elves, awaiting Legolas's return from the main hall. She shuffled, absently tugging on her now dirty scrub top. The blue wasn't so blue anymore, and it was crusted with dirt and trails of her own blood. She looked down at her hands, turning them over in her vision. They looked real enough. Her watch still encircled her wrist, and she glanced down at it briefly. The numbers blinked steadily, reading 00:00. It was a reminder that things were still not right.

_I suppose I'm making a great impression_, she thought, her lips pursed into a line. Kyna considered striking up some conversation, but as she took in her silent companions, she decided against it._ They don't really look like the chatty type._

The elves that guarded her were the pinnacle of stoicism. They stood around her, not saying a single word and only moving when it was necessary. Some of them had dark hair flowing past their pointed ears, where others had light hair like Legolas. They all seemed to share similarly coloured eyes, some were more silver than others.

Time passed with agonizing slowness as Kyna slowly started to come to terms with what was going on. If this was a dream, wouldn't she have woken up by now? She vaguely remembered the accident, the bright flash of white and the impact of the steering wheel on her face. Could she be in a coma then? That certainly would explain the strange dream. Perhaps she was sitting intubated in the same room that her patient had died in. Would anyone be at her bedside? _Melinda would_, she thought. Even though the two of them chided each other regularly, they had formed a tight bond.

And if it wasn't a dream? The idea frightened her. How was something like this even possible? _The Hobbit_ was a book. The more she thought about it, the more she believed that it couldn't be real and that she had either become incapacitated or lost her mind. She just had to figure out how to wake up.

"Bring her," Legolas's voice echoed from the shadows behind the two large doors that rose in front of them.

One of the elves reached out to tug Kyna's arm. She quickly shrugged herself out of his reach, provoking a displeased expression from him.

"I can walk," Kyna hissed, straightening her stance. "I'm not an invalid."

She stepped forward, walking toward the voice from the shadows. The elf entourage followed silently, their movements synchronized behind her.

Entering the halls of the Woodland King incited a feeling of absolute insignificance. The caverns that housed the elves of Mirkwood were anything but confining. Expansive tunnels stretched far in all directions, the ceilings and passages supported by pillars carved of living stone crafted with the natural landscape of the caves, not against it. The designs fashioned into the arches were delicate and complex, seeming to intertwine in a myriad of pathways.

Stone bridges exposed trails that went on in every direction, and daylight could be seen in glimmering patches, filtering through the area in small streams. Lanterns were suspended from endlessly high ceilings, bathing the halls in a golden warmth. It was stunning, and Kyna felt her jaw drop in astonishment. She had never in her lifetime seen such a place, even in her wildest dreams.

"This way." Legolas stepped out from the shadow the large door cast. His face was pensive, and he regarded her with an expression of caution, as if something had changed since they last met.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, falling into step behind him.

"My father believes you are a threat. You bypassed our patrols with nothing but your clothing. That is a concern. I am to take you to the dungeon until he decides otherwise." The tall elf moved like the ghost of a whisper, his steps silent on the stone.

"The dungeon?!" Kyna exclaimed, her face registering pure panic. "That's crazy! I haven't done anything wrong. I'm unarmed, no weapons. I don't even know what's going on, or how I even got here!" A part of her wanted to run, but there was no place to go. The elves stood by her at all sides, ever watching. The pit of her stomach twisted into a knot of dread, and she froze momentarily, paralyzed by her fear.

"These are dark times," Legolas explained, only turning back for a moment to catch her gaze. "My father only uses caution. If you are indeed as innocent as you make yourself out to be, he will know."

"And if he doesn't believe me?" she asked, her hands trembling slightly.

"Then you will likely stay there for the rest of your human life." His words were almost a whisper, and he exhaled softly.

They travelled through the passageways in silence for some time. Legolas had little to say, and Kyna certainly had better things to think about than random conversation. Eventually, they came to a labyrinth of winding stairways that led into shadowy depths below them.

Kyna swallowed as they started to descend. The steps were narrow, and the lack of a railing made her incredibly nervous. Any surface light that had been evident earlier became fleeting, leaving only the lanterns to light the way. Small, seemingly inescapable cells with barred doors were carved directly into the stone, giving testament to gravity of her situation.

Kyna stopped and spoke, raising her palms in frustration, "Please, can't we work this out? Can I at least speak with your King before you just toss me in here? I haven't done anything wrong, and I have no idea why any of this is happening. I have medical skills, and I can be of use to you."

"He does not wish to speak with you." Legolas regarded her with his blue gaze as he placed his hand on one of the cell doors. "I'm sorry. There is nothing more I can do." He swung the door open and gestured for her to go inside.

Kyna hesitated.

"Do not make this harder than it has to be," Legolas warned, his voice growing dark. "My father does not torture his prisoners, unless they invoke his ire." He gestured again to the cell. "You will have food and water."

Kyna took a reluctant step forward, feeling the small cell close in on her as soon as she strode into it. She turned to face Legolas, a pleading look on her face. "Please, we can work this out."

"I'm sorry," he stated flatly, and shut the door with a loud clang. He glanced at her one last time before turning and vanishing from her sight, leaving her with nothing but silence, darkness, and the steady beating of her own heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: An Uncomfortable Meeting**

Kyna wasn't sure how much time had passed in the small cell that had become her new home. Very little natural daylight traveled to this depth of the caverns, and she found herself in the company of the same dim lantern light, no matter the time. Sometimes she slept, passing in and out of restless and troubling dreams. She saw the hospital, her apartment, and the faces of her friends in those dreams, but each time she awoke, she was reminded of her whereabouts, and her grave situation.

She was not completely forgotten down in the dungeon. Twice a day, an elven woman would push food and water through the bars to her. Kyna had tried many times to speak to the woman, but she had kept silent, leaving as soon as the food was pushed into Kyna's cell. Once a day she was permitted a basin of warm water to wash with, and she did her very best to stay clean. Her scrubs had seen better days, and she yearned for a change of clean clothing and real bath.

"You know," Kyna muttered to herself in the silence of her cell, "I thought it would be a lot more fun to end up in Middle Earth. A little more, 'Let's go on an adventure!' and less 'Let's lock you up in the dungeon.'" She shifted, her back pressed against the cold stone of the floor. At least it was smooth and not jagged.

Legolas was right, they had treated her reasonably well, but the fact remained that she was here against her will and had done nothing wrong. He had not returned since, and she had heard nothing from the elf King himself.

"I guess I'm just supposed to rot here," she spoke into the darkness, exhaling heavily, "because, apparently it's a crime to be found injured on the forest floor, unarmed, and with no food or water. If that's my charge, then I'm guilty as hell."

She was not expecting to be answered.

"I've always found it amusing how humans will talk to the darkness that surrounds them," a voice echoed through the bars of her cell.

Kyna lifted her head from the cell floor, looking towards the door.

Only the faintest shuffling of fabric alerted Kyna to the presence of the figure that stood at the doorway. Her eyes fell on sage fabric inlaid with threads of silver that fell sumptuously around booted feet. As her gaze traveled upwards, following the folds of the fine fabric, she realized who was standing before her.

"Shit!" she cursed, shuffling until she was upright with her back against the far wall. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.

"I cannot tell from this distance if it is guilt written on your face, or if it is simply fear." The elf king's voice was like silk on glass, slipping between the cell bars like a cool breeze.

Thranduil turned his head to the side, viewing her out of the corner of his eye. His ring encircled fingers were interlaced at his waist, one thumb tapping against the other. After a great moment of silence, he turned to face her fully, pale blue eyes twinkling in the lantern light.

Kyna couldn't take her eyes off of him. The book surely didn't do him justice. Even the movie could not have prepared her for the man she gazed upon. His face was crafted of smooth, yet strong lines, and stretches of long blonde hair rested on his shoulders like strands of spun silk. Words could not do the Sindarin lord justice. She could see his relation to Legolas, but the elf king's eyes held the weight of time that his son's had not yet shown.

"Come here," he spoke into the silence between him.

Kyna stood slowly, reluctant to leave the shadows that obscured her from his penetrating gaze. She knew it was in her best interests to cooperate, as spending the rest of her life in prison was not on her bucket list. She did her best to smooth out her dirty clothing.

"Do not worry about your appearance," Thranduil coaxed. "You have greater things to be concerned about."

Kyna stepped up to the bars of the cell, the light from the lanterns illuminating her face. The ice of her blue eyes glimmered, and she stared at him defiantly.

"Why throw me in here?" She hissed, gripping one of the bars tightly with a hand. "I've done nothing wrong."

Thranduil stepped closer to the bars, taking a good look at the woman who had finally revealed herself. It was obvious from the onset that she was not like the humans of this area. Her clothing was strange, and her eyes held a knowledge that set her apart from those he usually had dealings with.

"Bypassing my patrols and getting this close to my kingdom is anything but 'nothing wrong'," he spoke coolly, his jaw clenching slightly. "In fact, it is of great concern to me. Do you have a name?"

"My name is Kyna," she answered, resting her head against the cold bars.

"How did you get here?" His strangely luminescent eyes watched her with interest.

Kyna knew she had to choose her words carefully. Her fate was already teetering on the edge of a precipice she did not want to go over. She had to tell the truth, but not give him any reason to think she was insane.

"I was traveling home," she started, averting her eyes from him. His gaze easily disarmed her, and it was paramount that she keep her story straight. "I'm a healer in my village and was up all night healing a man. While I was heading home—"

"You are a terrible liar," Thranduil interrupted her, the faintest smirk playing on his lips as he reached out to grasp her chin through the bars. "I have lived for a very long time, Kyna," Her name rolled off of his tongue with ease. "Don't think me so easily fooled."

"It's the truth, dammit! I mean you and your kingdom no harm!" Kyna's jaw clenched tightly. It _was_ the truth, well, almost the truth. _Dammit, that sounded like bull shit of the finest. Good job, Kyna. Nice work._

Thranduil's touch was smooth on her chin, and she could feel the pressure of his fingers increasing ever so slightly. He moved close enough to her that she could pick up the faintest scent of cedar wood on him. His gaze was unrelenting as he studied her, seeing through any façade she had tried to raise.

"It may be based in the faintest of truth," he elaborated, his voice so cold she could almost feel the ice in his breath. "But, you are being anything but honest." He slowly wiped away a smudge of dirt from her jawline with a finger before releasing her. "Are you a threat?" he mused softly as he stood back to regard her. "I don't think you are, but caution is warranted. You shall be released from this place."

"Thank you," Kyna breathed, falling to her knees in relief.

Thranduil tilted his head slightly, clearly intrigued by his new acquisition.

"Do not mistake this for an act of kindness," he said indifferently, "you are to remain in my kingdom under close watch until I find out exactly who you are and why you are here. Legolas mentioned you had medical skills. You can put them to use." He paused and looked at her once more, drawing his steely gaze over her. "And, I will find out the truth, Kyna."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - An Unsettling Mystery**

"Prince George?" Tauriel questioned, the arrow nocked in her bow whizzing towards a spider that crept in the trees above her. The creature twitched slightly as the arrow hit its mark and fell to the ground. "That makes no sense. I've never heard of such a place, or such a person."

"I know, it's unexpected," Legolas muttered, his own bow pulled taught in front of him as he eyed another spider. "Yet, despite her strange situation and obvious lies, my father released her."

"He set her free?" The elf woman paused, bringing her bow to her side. Her red hair blazed brilliantly in the light that swept through the trees, falling down her back in long strands. "That's unlike him. What on earth would make him think that she wasn't a threat?" Her steps were quick, and she hopped up to a low branch, her booted feet making little sound.

"He told me he was certain she wasn't, even though he knew she was lying." Legolas released the arrow, and it flew through the air and hit the spider with deadly precision. Once the creature was dispatched, he followed Tauriel up the tree, stopping to stand beside her. "She's not permitted to leave the halls and is heavily guarded, at least until we find out what's going on."

"And, what of these healing skills you mentioned?" Tauriel asked, looking to Legolas in question. "Certainly no human could match the healing ability of the elves. Why would the King ask her to contribute in such a way?"

"To keep her busy and possibly out of trouble," he answered, his pale blue eyes scanning the landscape below them. "My father has not yet fully revealed his thoughts to me regarding this. I am uncertain of his plans."

The shadows in the forest were exceptionally dark this day. Clouds stretched heavily over the entire sky, diffusing any light that would have made its way through the heavy canopy of trees. The dusk provoked the spiders, causing them to hunt in greater numbers. Even now, Legolas and Tauriel could hear them skittering beneath them.

"They continue to grow in numbers," Tauriel whispered, concern evident in her green eyes. "Perhaps it's just the darkness today?"

"I wish I could say that was the cause, Tauriel," he spoke, his voice heavy, "but the increase in attacks against our people is unsettling." Legolas was silent for a moment, his lips pressing together tightly. "I fear the Necromancer's power continues to grow. Every day our patrols report more and more activity within the woods." He trailed off after that, his eyes narrowing.

"What do we do?" Tauriel asked, her eyes snapping towards a spider that had revealed itself in one of the trees across from them. She grasped an arrow and nocked it quickly into her bow, closing one eye to aim. The spindly legs of the spider closed in on itself as the arrow pierced its torso. It teetered and fell out of the tree, hitting many branches on its journey to the ground.

"The same thing we've always done, continue to push back until we can no longer do so." He turned to regard her silently, restlessness deep within his eyes.

* * *

><p>A dim light crept into the room, lifting the veil of darkness to herald the arrival of morning. Kyna stirred slightly. The bed was comfortably warm, the kind of warmth that you want to stay burrowed in for all eternity. The blankets and pillows were smooth against her skin, and as she inhaled, she could smell the faintest scent of herbs.<p>

"I should get up," she murmured softly to herself. "I can't seem to remember if I'm on nights or days." Her eyes snapped open quickly, and the sight of her surroundings caused dread to rise in her stomach. She was certainly not at home.

Kyna threw back the covers in panic, attempting to get out of the bed as fast as possible. Her quick movements only worked against her, however, and the blankets wrapped awkwardly around her legs, causing her to tumble out of the bed and into a heap on the floor.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," she cursed, pushing the blankets away from her legs. She huffed and looked around the room.

It was a small room, but it was beautiful. Tall pillars framed the four corners, all engraved with the same designs that she recalled from the main hall. The walls were fashioned of smooth, finely hewn stone, and the few pieces of furniture in the chamber were all delicately handcrafted from the finest wood. Roots from large trees that rose above the caverns snaked in and out of the rock, and delicate lanterns hung from the ceiling and walls, giving off a warm luminosity.

"I guess I'm still friggen insane," she muttered, finally pushing herself up from the floor. She circled the room slowly, running her hand along each and every detail. It was workmanship of a quality she had never seen. It sure felt real enough. "Damn. So, let's say this is real. What the hell do I do now? Do I go along with this? Do I tell them the truth? Do I pretend I'm from Gondor or something—Rohan maybe? No, that won't work. He'll see right through it and shove me back into that cell."

When she made it to the table, her eyes fell upon the neatly folded stack of clothing that was sitting on top of it. The fabrics were crimson and brown, and incredibly smooth to the touch when she reached out to bury her hand in it. There were two choices, one a simple robe, and the other a tunic and slacks. It was nothing extravagant by elven standards, but Kyna was so used to alternating between scrubs and pajamas, that to her it was like touching the finest silk.

She chose the slacks and tunic, and quickly slid them over her body. They fit well enough, and the earthy shades flattered her tall, strong figure. After running her hands through her hair to best remove the tangles, she quickly plaited it into a long braid that eventually rested midway down her back. She brought a hand to her forehead, running her fingers along the welt over her eyebrow. The wound had healed quickly, much faster than she had expected.

Kyna glanced to the tray of fruit that was also placed on the table. Food was the last thing on her mind and she easily passed it without a thought, reaching for the door. As she turned the metal handle, it clicked in resistance. It was locked.

"You have to be kidding me," Kyna muttered, knocking on the door impatiently.

Almost immediately, there was movement from the other side, and the door swung open. A pair of dark-haired elves, one man and one woman, stood looking expectantly at her from the other side.

"I thought I was released from the dungeon. How is this different?" Kyna asked defiantly.

"It seems a lot more comfortable than the cells," the male answered, "but, if you'd rather go back there—"

"No," she huffed, "but, why lock me in there?"

"The king demands it," the elf woman answered, her hands folded behind her. "It is not our place to question his orders. You are to be guarded carefully, and the door locked at night."

"So, I'm basically still a prisoner." Kyna blinked, looking back and forth between the guards.

"Yes, basically," the male elf answered.

"Thanks for being so informative," Kyna snapped sarcastically.

"I aim to please," he spoke flatly, rolling back on his heels.

Kyna attempted to push past them, but the woman put a hand out to stop her.

"We are to accompany you everywhere," she said, regarding Kyna with a serious expression.

"You're joking." Kyna's jaw tensed.

"Dead serious."

"What if I have to use the bathroom?" Kyna regarded them both with narrowed eyes.

"We'll wait outside," the male answered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "but, if you take too long, we may have to break down the door and come in after you." He raised a single brow and watched her carefully with his blue eyes. She could see the faintest glint of humour there. "So, don't try anything."

_At least this one has a sense of humour_.

"What now, then?" Kyna crossed her arms against her torso and leaned against the doorframe. "Do we stand here all day and wait until the King determines that I'm worthy enough to walk around?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, causing the two guards to look at each other, their eye-brows raised.

"That won't be necessary," a familiar voice echoed. "I find you worthy enough of walking. However, you do seem to speak your mind quite freely and without consequence."

Thranduil was standing down the hallway, dressed in robes of burgundy with elaborate silver embroidery delicately running along both the openings of his sleeves and the hem by his feet. His long flaxen hair was free and unadorned around his shoulders. He watched her with a cool interest, a hint of amusement in his pale blue eyes.

_Shit._

"My Lord." The male elf bowed before stepping off to the side silently, followed by his companion.

"You are both dismissed," Thranduil waved his hand towards the guards, and they slipped down the passageways into the shadows. The elf lord directed his attention to Kyna, and gestured for her to follow. "Walk with me."

Kyna trailed behind him in nervous silence. The last thing she wanted was to end up back in the dungeon. She hadn't even had enough time to figure out how to explain her story, if that was even what she was going to do. She had to tread carefully, and not say anything stupid.

"I said walk with me, not behind me." He stopped and glanced back at her, waiting.

She slipped in beside him, nervously tugging on the hem of her sleeve. It was only now that she realized how tall the elf king stood. Kyna was tall, but Thranduil was taller by at least a head. He walked with great purpose, and the silence between them was strange, but not uncomfortable.

"You are not from here," he spoke thoughtfully, keeping his gaze forward. "That much is painstakingly obvious. Your speech, your clothing, your attitude, everything about you is completely and utterly foreign to me. "

Kyna froze. _Crap, this isn't good. What do I do now?_

He continued, his voice even and rhythmic, "you appear out of nowhere, bypass my patrols, and speak of places that do not exist in Middle Earth." He ducked through a doorway, leading her down a hallway until it opened into a small garden.

_He sure is acting strangely calm about all this_.

The stone walls gave way to an open area, revealing a crop of towering trees. Sunlight drifted down through the canopy of leaves in long streams that danced with the motion of the wind. Stone statues decorated the gardens in images of stoic elven figures, both male and female. The ground was dotted with leaves and flowers, and a small pathway of smooth stones circled the area.

Thranduil raised a casual hand and the door shut behind them, the stone and wood bending easily to his will. They were completely alone, the only sound a faint rustling of the wind that pulled strands of Kyna's ebony hair from her braid. Thranduil stopped and faced her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. Kyna swallowed under his scrutiny. What was he looking for?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kyna asked, holding her breath for a moment. Her icy gaze was bold, a mask concealing the fear she felt.

"I'm trying to figure out exactly what you are, Kyna." He contemplated, reaching out to turn her face towards him so he could search her eyes again.

"What I am?" Confusion began to move over Kyna's features. _What did he mean by that? _"I'm a human!" Her voice rose in frustration. "I'm a damn human who was obviously in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I'm now wrapped up in a mess bigger than I could have ever expected! How many damn times do I have to say it? I don't know why I'm here!"

The cruel sting of tears begin to fill her eyes. The exhaustion of the last few days had begun to wear on her, and she could feel her emotional strength begin to fail. Anger, frustration, fear, all of it had bubbled to the surface like a pot left unattended on the stove for too long.

"I am no fool—" Thranduil's words were filled with suspicion, but something in her eyes made him stop midsentence and regard her with a peculiar expression. It was as if for just a moment, he was confused and perhaps a bit surprised. A single tear had started to roll down her cheek, and he caught it with his thumb, brushing it from her skin. "You have no idea…" he whispered, taking both her cheeks in his hands and carefully studying her face. His blue gaze flicked back and forth over her features, studying her as though she was a rare gem.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, stiffening at his touch. He had caught her completely off guard, forcing her to take a step backwards to maintain her balance.

"You truly have no idea what you are," he murmured, almost to himself. His jaw clamped shut as he released her, the muscle twitching in tension.

"What the hell do you mean!?" Kyna could feel panic roil in her stomach, causing waves of nausea to move through her body. She shut her eyes tightly, pushing back the tears that threatened to spill out.

The concern on Thranduil's face shifted to a blank slate in an instant, leaving his features devoid of any emotion. He regarded her coolly, and inclined his head. As he did so, the doors behind her opened swiftly.

"Go," he said bluntly. "Seek out Uilwen. You will help her gather athelas."

"But—" Kyna spoke, desperately wanting an explanation.

"Go," Thranduil's voice rose, and he watched her with a dark expression, "before I send you back to the dungeon!"

Kyna turned from him and stalked towards the door, her cheeks blazing red with anger, frustration, and unshed tears. The door slammed behind her as soon as she crossed the threshold, causing a torrent of wind to rush against her back.

Once she was out of his sight, Thranduil exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing deeply in thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Athelas**

"Athelas is characterised by the small green leaves and the appearance of white flowers," the brunette elf explained while hunched in a crop of foliage. She beckoned Kyna over, kindness in her pale grey eyes.

Uilwen and Kyna were just outside the entrance to the halls in a clearing where the covering of trees was less dense. Blue sky peeked through the leaves, and rays of sunlight drenched the plants in the clearing with much needed light. It was warmer today than the previous days, and the overcast skies had passed, giving the forest a much-needed reprieve.

"It's also known as Kingsfoil by some, and many consider it a weed," Uilwen continued. "A tiny bit has always grown in this place, although it is very rare in this part of the world. Our skills in healing are quite limited when compared to the elves in Rivendell and the House of Elrond, but the athelas helps to ease the pain of our wounded while we work the little healing magic we have."

Uilwen snipped a cutting of the herb, handing it over to Kyna. The elf woman was dressed in a simple brown robe crafted of a smooth fabric. Her hair was a chestnut colour, and it flowed freely down her back. She seemed ageless, much like the other elves. Her skin was smooth and pale, and her eyes held a quiet wisdom that garnered much respect from those around her. At first, she regarded Kyna with slight suspicion, but after the two of them had spent some time together, things had become more comfortable.

Kyna reached out to grab the clipping, feeling the smooth bright green leaves between her thumb and forefinger. Small flowers dotted the plant, delicate in appearance and nearly pure white in colour. She remained silent, simply studying the plant as the breeze tossed strands of her black hair around her face.

"You really don't know why you're here, do you?" Uilwen placed another bunch of athelas in her basket and rested her hands on her knees, studying Kyna with a thoughtful expression.

"No, I don't," Kyna replied, still inspecting the herb in her hands. "All I can remember is travelling home after being up all night healing a man in my village." It was true enough, and she only left out the things that would arouse suspicion. She honestly could not remember anything after the accident until she woke up face to face with Legolas.

_I think if I stick to this story, it will be believable enough. It's the truth, after all, just—simplified_, she thought to herself.

"Do you think, perhaps, that something may have happened to cause you to lose your memory?" Uilwen stood, brushing her soil covered hands off on her robes. "You had a fairly large wound on your head when the prince found you."

"It's possible." Kyna wandered around the clearing, glancing at the plants that surrounded her.

"Just a few more now." The elf woman moved to another spot. "We need some other herbs to be used for the feast tomorrow."

Kyna raised a brow. "The feast?"

Uilwen smiled warmly. "Yes. The king frequently holds feasts outside the city walls in the evenings. We light fires, enjoy food and drink together, and rest."

"Is that really smart with all the spiders and stuff I've heard people talking about?" Kyna had heard the troubled whispers of increased activity in the forest and the struggles it brought upon the elves.

"The King refuses to give the Necromancer that pleasure." Uilwen said proudly as she plucked a few more plants. "We spend so much of our time fighting darkness that our people have becoming weary. The feasts help with that. It is a way to remember how our people once lived. We were not always this distrustful. We've been fighting this war for nearly two thousand years, and have been constantly pushed back to the point that we dwell mostly in the cavernous halls." She paused for a moment to regard her charge, hands resting on her knees. "Much of this forest used to be our land, The Woodland Realm, but now most of it has become haunted with darkness. The feasts are a way for King Thranduil to remind his people who we are, and how we lived before the darkness came."

"I see," Kyna plucked something that looked similar to what Uilwen was handling, but the elf held out a hand when she attempted to put it in the basket.

"Not that." She shook her head. "That one truly is a weed."

"Oh," Kyna swallowed, tossing the plant to one side.

"You really must be from far away if you don't recognize that." Uilwen regarded her with curiosity. "Do you not remember anything about where you came from?"

Kyna fell silent, averting her eyes and looking towards the ground. "No, I don't remember." It was a lie, but she had no other choice.

Uilwen said nothing in response to this, continuing her work. "You will be joining us for the feast, yes?" she asked after a few moments.

"I'm not sure I'm allowed to." Kyna placed a few more bundles of greenery into the basket, this time with a nod of approval from Uilwen. "They lock me in my bedroom at night. Besides, everyone here knows I am just a glorified prisoner—a human. I would feel strange going to something like that"

"The King wishes you to attend," she spoke softly, glancing over in Kyna's direction. "He sent word to me this morning to relay this to you and convince you if need be."

Kyna's eyes widened, confusion on her features. "I find that really hard to believe. We didn't exactly get off on the right foot." She had not heard any word from Thranduil since their altercation in the garden over two weeks ago. She assumed that he had no desire to even speak with her again, let alone see her. Her brow furrowed as she recalled the strange look in his eyes. Whatever he saw in her had provoked a strong reaction.

"I do not question the king's intentions, my dear." Uilwen scooped up the basket, handing it to Kyna. "He wasn't always this way, you know—so full of suspicion."

Try as she might, Kyna could not picture Thranduil as anything other than a suspicious and cynical being. _He's kind of a jerk_, she thought quietly to herself as they headed in the direction of the halls.

* * *

><p>"What are you intentions with the human woman, Father?" Legolas stepped forward. "One moment you have her locked up, and now she's gathering herbs with Uilwen? What is the purpose of such a thing? I do not understand."<p>

Thranduil stood tall on a stone platform that overlooked a large opening that provided him a view of the remaining edge of the forest. The waters of Long Lake and the small village of Laketown—also known as Esgaroth—sat on Mirkwood's edge, and beyond, the Lonely Mountain and the Dwarven kingdom of Erebor towered in the distance. Little movement came from the mountain as the mighty wyrm Smaug had held it hostage for quite some time. Few dared to incur the dragon's wrath.

A breeze drifted through the opening, playing with tendrils of the elf's blonde hair. He brushed a thumb along the trim of the crimson robe he wore, his fingers sliding against the stitching inlaid there.

"Why does how I conduct myself concern you, Legolas?" He spoke calmly, his voice fluid and strong. After a moment, he turned to face his son.

"I feel as though you are not telling me something. The appearance of the woman was peculiar to say the very least. She was distraught and rambling when I found her—clearly not a threat. You threw her in the dungeon, but now she is free to roam as long as the guards are watching her. Is she, or is she not, a threat?"

"There are many things I do not tell you, my son." He inclined his head slowly, gesturing with a hand. "This is something you shall learn as you grow older and one day take my place. As for the woman, she is not all that she seems, but she is telling the truth about her circumstances. How she got here is beyond her knowledge, I know that much." He paced along the platform, robes trailing behind him in a smooth cascade. "However, there could be any number of reasons why she does not remember this."

"Not all that she seems?" Legolas furrowed his brows in question. "She's obviously a human father, anyone can see that."

"I have seen many things during the span of my life that you have not, Legolas. I will reveal more to you in time, but not until I know more myself." He paused for a moment, trailing a finger along the strong line of his chin in thought. "I ask this one thing of you. Look into her eyes the next time you see her, and then ask yourself if she's 'obviously just a human'. You are still young, Legolas, by elf standards, and although you have become very wise, you still have much to learn."

"As you wish father." Legolas tensed and lowered his head in respect. "Is there anything more you would have of me?"

"See to it that the patrols are doubled for the feast on tomorrow's eve. The darkness may encroach on our land, but I will continue to give the people something to look forward to."

"I will work with Tauriel to do so," Legolas nodded, before turning on a heel.

"And, Legolas," Thranduil spoke, causing the younger elf to stop and turn in his direction. "Do not allow yourself to get too close to the Captain. She is beneath you."

"I will see to your orders." Legolas' response was curt and he exited the chamber quietly, leaving the king alone with his thoughts.

Thranduil turned back to the opening and gazed at nothing in particular. His thoughts were far too deep to focus on anything else. The sun had begun to set, dipping under the horizon and leaving the room in dim twilight. The lanterns swayed in the breeze, causing flickering lights to dance on the stone walls.

The human woman had struck a chord deep within him. She intrigued him, and it was not just because of her mysterious origin—although, that had a large part in it. She did not fear him like most did. Since the moment he saw the spark of something else in her eyes, Kyna remained in his mind. He thought of her often.

_Peredhil—half-elven. No. _His eyes narrowed, their blue depths filled with speculation.

The half-elves were all accounted for, and their numbers were not great. _Could she be_? Although her traits appeared human, there was something in her eyes that indicated that human blood was not the only thing flowing through her veins.

If that were the case, where would she have come from? Certainly not from Rivendell. Her clothing, the name she called herself by, and her manner dismissed that thought entirely.

What of the Dúnedain, the men descended from the Númenóreans, could she be one of their kin? Again, it was impossible. If that were the case, how would that explain her mannerisms, clothing and her complete lack of knowledge of athelas? It was a great distance for her to travel so unequipped. Something was not adding up, but what he saw in her eyes told him there was much more to this story.

Despite his curiosity, Thranduil knew that if she was something altogether different from what she portrayed, that she could be either an asset or a threat to his realm. He had to proceed with caution. The world was changing, and darkness crept upon them. Every step had to be calculated carefully lest he risk losing the last foothold of his kingdom to that overreaching shadow. If there was even the smallest possibility that Kyna's lineage could aid him in his struggle or offer him a bargaining chip, it had to be entertained.

She was a mystery, and one he would certainly solve.

"I will find out, Kyna," he spoke into the shadows, his voice hardly a whisper. "I will find out exactly what you are." She would come to the feast. Uilwen would see to it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: The Feast of Starlight**

The air was cool on Kyna's face as she exited through the large doors of The Elven King's halls. For the first time since she had arrived, the doors were open, allowing the elves to travel in and out at their own discretion. It was obvious that the guard had been increased, but it did not put a damper on the mood. The elves were full of mirth and dressed in their best clothing, an ocean of greens and browns.

The sun had just set, leaving streaks of violet and orange painted along the horizon that blended perfectly with the dusky blackness that stretched above it. Twinkling stars had already become visible, bright and luminous in the clarity of a cloudless sky. The fires were already lit, and Kyna could see the flickering flames through the trees ahead. Lanterns of all shapes and sizes hung from branches of all heights, swinging back and forth in the gentle breeze.

Kyna tugged on the green tunic that hugged her figure. It was so soft, nicer than any of the clothing she had been given before. As always, she was given two choices, a robe and the tunic and slacks, and as always, she chose the latter. This time the slacks were fashioned of a fine and supple leather that felt like a second skin against her legs. The black boots were comfortable, and felt as though she was wearing the socks she had grown to miss since she ended up in this crazy situation. How long had it been now? Three weeks maybe?

Most of the elves still viewed her with suspicion, but she had begun to feel comfortable with a few of them, namely Uilwen and in a lesser capacity, her guards. As time passed, she noticed that on many occasions, there was only one guard keeping an eye on her.

_If I keep this up, maybe I can get them to realize I'm not a threat. _

Kyna continued along the stone bridge towards the fires, her stomach fluttering. She was terrified of attending. What would the elves think? She took a deep breath and pushed her ebony hair over a shoulder. It fell down her back in the long waves left by the bun she so often wore coiled at the nape of her neck.

She could turn back, just go to her room for the night and avoid all this nonsense, but what would that accomplish? It would only further increase the suspicion directed at her. No, she had to do this. She had to show them that she had nothing to hide. Kyna walked towards the trees, her head held high and her stride purposeful.

Once into the clearing, Kyna was assaulted by the sights, sounds, and smells of the feast. A large bonfire crackled in the centre of everything, surrounded by tables that were accented by smaller hearths that gave off a pleasant glow. The surfaces of the tables were covered with platters of fruit, vegetables, and some food that Kyna did not recognized. Flasks of wine were everywhere, and an abundance was being poured into fluted glasses and set at each setting. One larger table sat off to the left, ornamented by a large wooden chair decorated with intricate carvings.

She moved her eyes over those seated at the larger table until she recognized someone. It was then that Uilwen noticed her, and offered her a nod. The elf woman beckoned to a chair beside her, which was coincidently beside the large wooden chair at the end of the table, which of course, was occupied by none other than the king himself.

_You have got to be kidding me. Nope. No, I am not sitting there—not on your life._

Kyna veered off, moving quickly towards one of the smaller and less noticeable tables. Her movements didn't go unnoticed, as Legolas stood and quickly followed Kyna after a sharp look from Thranduil. It didn't take long for the elf's swift movements to allow him to catch up with you.

"Going somewhere?" Legolas asked her thoughtfully. He was dashing in an elaborate silver tunic that hugged his lithe figure, and his blonde hair was pulled back in its typical style, this time ornamented with a thin silver circlet.

"Yes," she replied, taking a few steps in the opposite direction. "I was going to go find a seat."

"You have a seat. Please come with me." He inclined his head in the direction of the head table, never taking his eyes off her.

"That's not appropriate. I can't sit there." Kyna insisted, nervously clasping her hands behind her.

"The king has requested your presence," Legolas spoke, a grave seriousness in his voice. "You will sit in the seat designated for you." He paused, taking a moment to carefully study her eyes. "Do not argue with me on this, Kyna. It will only end up with the festivities ending early for you."

Kyna inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a second before letting it all out in a sigh. "Fine," she muttered reluctantly. "Lead the way."

As they approached the large table, she could feel Thranduil's gaze on her. It made her nervous, and she was hesitant to make eye contact. When she finally got the nerve to look up, she met the intensity of his eyes, which reflected the firelight like sapphires as he watched her with interest. His long hair was brushed away from his face and smoothed neatly over his shoulders like long shining rivers. It was nearly white in the firelight, dressed with a crown of delicate twigs and leaves that stretched past his pointed ears and rested gently on his cheekbones.

He refused to break the gaze, so Kyna found herself averting her eyes and focusing on the fabric of the silver jacket that hugged his toned physique. It was open at the neck, revealing the skin of his throat and the smooth line of his clavicle. She felt her eyes linger there for a moment against her will.

It was obviously longer than she realized, because his smooth voice interrupted her assessment. "Please, have a seat."

_Augh! What was that? What am I doing?! _

Surprised at her own thoughtless actions, she quickly seated herself in the wooden chair and stared at the platter of fruit in front of her. She could only hope the dim light hid the flush that rose on her cheeks. Even though it had been a long time since she had honestly appreciated a member of the opposite sex in that way, now was certainly not the time to do so. When she finally looked up, she noticed a smirk on his lips and the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He had noticed.

_Oh, for god's sake, I'm an idiot._

He was still looking at her. "I am pleased you decided to join us."

"Really?" she spoke coldly, her jaw tense. "After our last conversation, that was the last thing I expected from you."

Thranduil grasped the flask of wine on the table and promptly filled her glass before his own, which was nearly empty at this point. He tapped a finger against the crystal, the metal of the large gem-covered ring on his finger echoing rhythmically.

"Speaking your mind is certainly one of your strong traits. Time will only tell if it is a flaw or a strength." The corners of his lips turned upwards and there was colour in his pale skin, most likely a side effect of the wine.

_And, bottoms up._ Kyna grabbed the goblet and took a long drink of the heady liquid within. It warmed her throat on the way down. Perhaps if she focused on her wine, she would stop talking.

"I will admit," he spoke, bringing his wine to his lips for a taste before continuing. "You have done everything we have asked of you and complied with our conditions thus far." He took one more sip and placed the glass back on the table.

"You've left me no choice, really. In your hospitable halls, it's either that or the dungeon." Kyna realized her glass was already empty. They were much smaller than the glasses she used back home.

He reached over to refill her glass. The wine was incredibly dark and earthy, sticking to the sides of the glass as she swirled it. It left her cheeks much warmer than anything else she had tried in the past.

"You seem to think that you know me." Thranduil placed the flask back on the table. "Put yourself in my situation. An unknown person shows up just outside your well-guarded home, just around the same time that the dark forces, that you've been keeping at bay for hundreds of years, increases substantially in number. Would you not think that there could be a possibility that this unknown person, dressed in strange clothing and babbling nonsense, may have something to do with it?"

Kyna blinked, resting the glass against her lips for a moment. He had a point, especially in a world populated with wizards, orcs, hobbits, and elves.

"Furthermore," he continued, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye, "you know that said person isn't telling you the whole story. Do you not think, Kyna, that my caution was warranted in the beginning?"

The woman pushed her black hair over a shoulder as she pursed her lips in thought. "Maybe," she replied in between sips of wine. "I just don't understand how you can see me as a threat. I have nothing. I came with nothing."

"It's not what you have, but how you came. As for being a threat, the longer you are here, the more I doubt that." He slid his glass across the table and leaned forward towards her. Kyna narrowed her icy eyes at him when he reached to refill her glass for the third time. She slid her glass in the opposite direction, preventing its refill.

"As lovely as it is, no amount of elven wine will change my story." Kyna kept her face hard, the muscles in her jaw tensing. She could already feel the alcohol's effect on her, and it warmed her face considerably. _So, that's what his game is. He thinks the wine will make me talk._

Thranduil lowered the flask to the table. "I am incredibly old, Kyna. Older than you can even comprehend, and whether or not you are actually aware of it, I know that you are not completely human. I hope you are smart enough to realize that hiding something like this from me purposely is impossible. I will find out your lineage, no matter how long it takes. You may not be a threat, but there is something about you that needs to be revealed."

At this point, he was close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. She could see his eyes clearly, their azure depths churning with a curious intent. The firelight brought out the blue that was usually so pale. She felt her stomach lurch.

"Then you will be searching for a long time, because I still have no idea what you're talking about." She swallowed, refusing to buckle under the pressure.

Thranduil leaned forward until his lips brushed softly against Kyna's ear. "I can wait," he whispered, his voice like ice. The rush of air sent chills down her spine, causing her to shudder. He slowly leaned back and looked over the festivities, leaving her in stunned silence. "Have more wine, Kyna. I am weary of discussing this matter, as I am sure you are as well. I will no longer probe you for information, so don't let that hold you back from enjoying yourself. The feasts have grown fewer and fewer due to the creatures in the woods, and it may be some time before we have one again."

Kyna sat quietly for a moment, recollecting herself. Part of her wanted to leave the table, but the other part refused to let him intimidate her. She looked him directly in the eye and reached for the flask to refill her own glass.

"Don't mind if I do," she inclined her head to him, raising it and taking a drink.

"Very good." A small chuckle escaped his lips and he nodded in approval.

* * *

><p>Despite the suspicion levied heavily on her by the wood elves, Kyna had managed to enjoy herself for the remainder of the night. She was content with keeping to herself while picking at the platters of fruit and sipping on the wine that flowed freely and without end; just watching the festivities was more than enough entertainment for her. The elves were truly wondrous creatures, and they definitely knew how to throw a good party.<p>

Kyna sat near the large bonfire, its crackling flames keeping her warm as the night progressed. Having managed to nab herself a flask of wine, she was quite content. It had been a very long time since she had enjoyed herself to this extent. However, in the back of her mind, she knew she was still a prisoner.

"How have they been treating you?" a kind voice asked from behind her. It was Uilwen, and she sat down beside Kyna on the grass.

"The same distrust and suspicion," Kyna answered, taking a grape from the platter and popping it into her mouth. "But, I'm more than happy to just watch. I'm not really supposed to be here, after all."

"Perhaps you have a purpose that you have not yet realized, Kyna." Uilwen helped herself to some fruit, her eyes drifting curiously over the human woman. "Perhaps you are meant to be here for some reason. We have long traded with the humans of Esgaroth, but it is rare to have one of them among us. My people are only distrustful of you because of your unique circumstances. If anything, spending time in the company of humans can offer the elves perspective."

"Really? How can someone mortal give someone who's been alive for hundreds or thousands of years perspective?"

"Take the King for example," Uilwen explained, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Fighting a war that's spanned the lifetimes of so many humans—for thousands of years—has changed him. He's lost much to the darkness—his father, Oropher, in the great Battle of Dagorlad, his wife, and now most of his Kingdom over the last two thousand years to the darkness of the Necromancer. It's much easier to withhold trust than to risk losing anything else. He knows that unless he receives a wound that cannot be healed, he will continue living with that loss. Mortals live differently. Death comes to you no matter what, be it by chance or by old age, and you live your life with that expectation. That is an entirely different perspective." Uilwen smoothed her long braid over a shoulder, running her hands down its length before folding them in her lap.

The rustling of robes indicated the arrival of a third party.

"Divulging all my secrets to your charge, I see," Thranduil spoke in a smooth voice, stepping to stand just behind them. "As fondly as we remember Greenwood the Great and the reign of my father, the darkness we fight will take any sign of weakness as a reason to push us further into the mountain."

Uilwen stood quickly, lowering her head in respect. "Apologies, my lord. I sought only to help Kyna understand us."

"And if she were to use that against us?" He angled his head to the side, raising a brow.

"I do not see evil in her, my lord. A mystery, yes, but none of the darkness."

Kyna stood, an annoyed expression on her face. "You're talking about me like I'm not here."

Thranduil studied Kyna for a long moment. "I am very aware of your presence, Kyna, and it seems you've a champion in your corner, one of whom I place great trust in." He turned to Uilwen, "Uilwen, leave us please. "

"As you wish, my lord." Uilwen bowed, and quietly left the area, leaving Thranduil and Kyna alone next to the slowly dying fire.

"My father founded this kingdom," Thranduil spoke, "Greenwood the great. It was much larger then, before the darkness came. Now, some call it Mirkwood. We are only a fraction of what we once were."

"Yet you show little fear, feasting out in the open like this." Kyna mentioned, sliding her foot back and forth against the grass.

"I will not give in to darkness," he said simply, falling silent for a time before speaking again. "I have seen darkness before and fought alongside men against it. We lost many." His expression darkened.

"I'm sorry," Kyna risked a glance in his direction. There was a sadness in his eyes.

"Do not be." He kept his gaze forward, watching the celebrations. "It was a very long time ago. We returned, and we rebuilt. I will certainly not force my people to cloister themselves in this mountain at all times. It is true that we have become wary." It was at this time that he turned to look at her. "But, the feasts allow us to forget that, even if just for a moment."

Kyna nodded, exhaling slowly. "You have given me a look into why your people are the way they are. Your actions took me by surprise at first, but the more that I learn about your situation, the more I understand why you were cautious. Where I come from, things are comfortable. There weren't a lot of risks."

Thranduil turned to face her fully, inclining his head. A strand of hair fell over his shoulder. "You have garnered respect from one of my most trusted healers, Kyna. Uilwen has lived a very long time and has been with us since the founding of the Woodland Realm. She is quite a gifted judge of character and not much escapes her sight. Where many of us look to caution and preparation for protection, she sees what others often miss."

"She has certainly made this all less horrible for me."

"I want to offer you an arrangement, Kyna." His powerful blue eyes captured her gaze and held it.

"An arrangement? What kind of arrangement?" Confusion crossed Kyna's features. What on earth could he want to make a deal about?

"I'm willing to remove the guards. You would no longer be kept under watch, but under one condition. You are to remain in my kingdom until we get to the bottom of what you are and why you are here." His words were simple and to the point. He seemed different than he was earlier, less antagonistic. Maybe Uilwen's opinion was more important to him than she realized.

"Why the change of heart all of a sudden?" Kyna couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. "Just hours ago you were trying to get me drunk to get information on how the hell I got here, and now you tell me you you're giving me freedom as long as I stay close?"

"I trust Uilwen." His voice was smooth and contemplative. "She sees no evil in you, and she is the one who has spent considerable time with you since you've arrived. If your intent was ill, she would know. I am merely offering you the chance to stay and train with Uilwen until I find out your true purpose. You are safer here than out on your own. If it is true that your recent memory is gone, do you not wonder why?"

There was a part of Kyna that wanted to know what was going on. Could this lineage that Thranduil kept talking about have something to do with her ending up here? Could those answers reveal a way back? If she refused his deal, she would likely get nowhere and possibly end up back in the dungeon, but if she agreed to it, she would have more freedom, and with more freedom came more answers. It would be far more likely that working with the elves and their king would get her home faster than fighting them the whole way—if there was a way home, that is.

"I won't lie to you, I do want to know what it is that you see in me, but even more than that, I want to get home. If this is what I have to do to make that happen, then I will agree to your terms."

"My Lord!"

Both Kyna and Thranduil turned towards the voice. An elven female was running towards them, her red hair blazing behind her like flames in the firelight. Her bow was held tightly in her gloved hands, obviously used recently. Her face was twisted in concern, and when she finally stopped in front of them, Kyna could see small droplets of sweat on her brow.

"What is it, Tauriel?" Thranduil spoke, his brow furrowing. "What has happened?"

"A dwarf, Sire," she spoke quickly, her voice filled with worry. "We found him wandering the forest."

Thranduil's eyes widened, and anger blazed within them. His face grew tense, and his voice was laden with vitriol. "A dwarf? On the outskirts of my lands? Was he alone?"

"No." Tauriel shook her head. "There were twelve others. This one was separated from his kin. We are still tracking the other twelve."

"Does he say why he is here?"

"No. He refuses to give us any information."

"Put him in the dungeon. Make sure he is treated well, fed, and watered, and I will speak to him when the others are found. Find Legolas and take him with you."

"There is something else, Sire."

"Go on." His jaw was so tight that Kyna could see the cords of the muscles in his neck twitching.

She inhaled before speaking, "The dwarf is none other than Thorin Oakenshield."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Prisoners**

"We use it in different ways." Uilwen walked around the table in the small apothecary that was covered in various containers and leafy green plants. "It can be crushed or boiled in hot water to release the healing properties."

The smell in the room was medicinal, but comforting. Light shone through the stone openings that served as windows to allow the sunshine that filtered through the caverns to enter the apothecary. A single lantern hung from the ceiling, casting light on the table and surrounding walls. Dried herbs of many types covered nearly every inch of wall space from the middle to the ceiling.

"Is one way more effective than others?" Kyna reached forward to grab a shoot of the athelas. Her long braid fell over her shoulder as she did so, and she brushed it away as she leaned closer to inspect the plant. It was intriguing.

"It depends on who is using it and what it is being used for. In a pinch, crushed and put into a wound can be quite effective. An infusion in water can be used topically to cleanse and internally as a medicinal drink."

"Incredible." Kyna was watching the small blooms carefully, running her fingers over the plant's subtle curves and nuances. It almost felt warm to her touch. Her eyes flicked to Uilwen in question. "Can I keep a little bit?"

"I don't see why not," Uilwen chuckled, giving Kyna a broad smile. "We're done here for today, Kyna. You can go whenever you like. I am glad the king has given you your freedom. You have lifted my spirits greatly. It's been a long time since someone has shown such and interest in my work."

"We have that in common, Uilwen. Although, our knowledge is very different. I will see you tomorrow!"

With that, Kyna ducked out of the small room, the sprout of athelas still tucked in her hands. She kept her eyes on it as she walked down the long hallway that led away from the apothecary. The more she was around the herb, the more she found herself increasingly interested in its properties. It was just as effective as some of the modern medicines she had used at the hospital.

She was so absorbed in the plant that she was not watching where she was going and abruptly collided with something as she rounded a corner. The athelas flew from her grip as she tumbled forward, and landed on the ground beside her. She expected to feel the hard surface of the ground as she lost her balance, but instead felt smooth fabric and strong hands on her shoulders to steady her. Once she regained her stability, she looked upwards and right into the surprised gaze of Thranduil.

"What has you so interested that you wander the halls without a thought to where you are going?" Thranduil asked curiously, raising a thick brow at her. He then looked down beside him at the herb, understanding washing over his features. "Ah, athelas." He made no move to release her.

Kyna froze for a moment, shock registering on her own features. "Yes." She inhaled and looked from him to the ground beside her, eyes focusing on the plant that had survived the fall intact. His hands rested heavily on her shoulders, and she could feel the smooth fabric of the sleeves of his silver robe brush softly against her skin. She looked up again, allowing her gaze to trail from his face to his strong jawline, and finally down his neck. During this time, he kept his gaze trained on her, his expression unreadable. She felt his thumb trail along the neckline of her tunic, causing her stomach to vault into her throat.

"I am glad you are enjoying your time with Uilwen. I was coming to see how you were faring with our agreement," he said, breaking the silence. He released his hold on her quickly and stepped back, as though his own actions surprised him. He retrieved the athelas, studying it shortly before taking her hand in his and gently placing the herb in her palm. He watched it curiously for a moment before meeting her eyes with his. "Do you enjoy working with athelas?"

"Yes, I do," Kyna replied, swallowing a lump in her throat. She was unsure of the casual tone of this conversation and wanted to proceed carefully. "Its properties are incredible, and I enjoy the way I feel when I'm around it. It is different from the medicine that I practice. I've never seen something with so many uses."

"And, how exactly does it make you feel?" he asked, again studying her face.

"Comfortable, calm," she murmured, looking at the plant in her hand. Her eyes flicked up to him. "Warm."

"I see." He pursed his lips in thought. "Most humans are taught to view it as nothing but a meddlesome weed, Kyna. It is intriguing indeed that you feel so strongly about it."

Kyna frowned slightly. _Intriguing? _"I just have an interest in medicine, that's all."

"You are truly a puzzle," Thranduil murmured before giving her a nod. "Try to keep your eyes ahead of you on your way back."

She could not tell for sure, but she was certain that a smirk lifted the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, I guess I'll do my best."

He turned from her and continued down the long hallway. Once he had turned the corner, Kyna released a deep sigh and rubbed the back of her neck. Her heart hammered in her chest, almost leaving her breathless. He surely only wanted to come see her to make sure she wasn't causing trouble. That had to be it. She bit her lip until she tasted the iron of her own blood. He had certainly revealed a side of himself that she was not expecting—warmth. Although she refused to admit it, a part of her had enjoyed being that close to him.

_Why am I thinking this way? I have to stop this. He is a character from a book, a fictional character, and I am completely crazy if I allow myself to forget that. None of this is real!_

* * *

><p>Later that night, while the elves of Mirkwood were enjoying their evening meal, Kyna slipped around a corner and down a steep stone staircase. Although her freedom gave her the ability to do so, she took a risk by coming down here and knew her curiosity was surely about to get the better of her. The darkness of the prison concealed her movements, and she did her best to avoid the glow of the lanterns as she crept quietly towards the commotion that echoed from below. She had chosen one of her darker tunics and slacks, and the same comfortable boots she had worn to the feast. Like socks, they made her steps soundless.<p>

It had been nearly a week since the feast, and only now had Legolas and Tauriel returned with the remainder of the dwarves. Thorin had been locked up here since then, and since they had the rest of the dwarves, things were about to get interesting. How could she not sneak down here and view the iconic travelling party that she had grown up reading about?

Thranduil had kept his side of the bargain and removed her guards and the lock from her door. She was truly able to move around as she pleased and found that life in The Woodland Realm was improving. It was nice not to be a prisoner anymore, and her interactions with the elves were getting better—including with the king himself.

She found herself thinking of Thranduil often since the feast. The conversations she had with him that night had changed her perception of him and his actions. She had resolved to be a less confrontational with him, to see things from a viewpoint other than her own. Things were different here than in her world, and she had to understand that. There was much more going on here than her mysterious arrival.

Her mind briefly dwelled on that moment in the hallway—the way he had held on to her, and the way his soft touch felt on her shoulders. _Stop! _She was about to scold herself further, but noises from below drew her from her thoughts.

Her eyes widened with excitement as she finally caught a glimpse of the dwarf company. Thorin, Fili, Kili, Óin, Glóin, Balin, Dwalin, Ori, Dori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur—yes, it was all of them! Many of the dwarves were covered in web from their recent struggle with the spiders and were belligerent and angry towards the elves that led them into the cells. Kyna caught sight of Legolas, who was standing near Thorin's cell. She slipped down further, just close enough to get within earshot.

"So, this is the hospitality of the great King Thranduil," Thorin spat, his blue eyes burning with resentment. "We are guilty of nothing but walking through the forest."

Thorin was one of the younger dwarves, though not as young as Fili and Kili. The wavy hair that fell past his shoulders was streaked with grey, and his beard, although short, was full and neat. Even though his clothing was tattered and dirty, he held a stoic and regal presence. He body was strong, and the muscles in his forearms were well developed from years of training.

"You expect hospitality after lying directly to our faces? You have always known that no one wanders this realm without the King's leave." Legolas' jaw clenched, but he kept his voice even. "It is obvious that you were not scouring the forest for food, Oakenshield. Even with your blatant lies, the King has requested for you to be treated well. Now that we have located your little company, I will be taking you to see him."

"And if I refuse?" Thorin seethed through the bars, grabbing them tightly in his hands.

"You have no choice," Legolas said coolly, pulling open the door to Thorin's cell. "I will come for you soon." He turned on a heel and went to make sure the other dwarves were secured properly.

Kyna's eyes drifted over the group, her gaze falling on the redheaded elf, Tauriel. She was securing Kili, the youngest of the dwarves, into one of the cells. She did not remember Tauriel from the book, only the movie, but Tolkien never went into elaborate detail of the Woodland Realm, leaving much to interpretation. She could very well have existed. In fact, she did exist, as she was standing right there.

_Unless my mind is creating this alternate reality._

"You should probably search me," the young dwarf quipped at Tauriel, his eyes searching hers. "I could be hiding anything, anywhere."

"Or you could have absolutely nothing in your slacks." The words slipped through Tauriel's lips coldly, her green eyes watching the dwarf intently. She shut the door in his face, only pausing to give him a quick glance as she walked away.

"The dwarf's gaze lingers long on you, Tauriel." Legolas stepped in beside her, his brow furrowing in displeasure.

"I didn't notice such a thing," she responded, almost defensively. "He seems taller than most dwarves, does he not?" She smiled slightly, averting her gaze.

"Perhaps," he responded, his eyes narrowing in her direction, "But, that is his only saving grace, if one can call it that."

Tauriel turned from him, moving down the steps quickly. In a moment, she was gone.

Once the elves had left, Kyna slipped further down the stairs to get a closer look at the dwarves, continuing to keep herself hidden. At that very moment, she felt a rush of cold air move past her. She quickly looked in the direction it came, only to find nothing there.

_Bilbo! _Her eyes widened at the realization. He must be close and under the cloak of the One Ring!

A loud clanging and banging garnered her attention, and she turned towards it. The dwarves were clearly trying to escape their cells, and their frustrated cries echoed loudly. One voice rose amongst the group, loud and clear. She could not mistake it.

"Stop! Struggling is fruitless!" The one called Balin shouted, his voice ringing loudly through the halls of the prison like a bell. "Unless the king wishes it, there is no way out of the dungeons of the Woodland Realm."

After a few reluctant sighs, the noise from the cells silenced at his words. Kyna took this moment to slip away. She knew Legolas and the others would be returning soon to take Thorin to Thranduil. If she was to continue to witness this, she had to find her way into the Thranduil's throne room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – The Throne Room**

_Author's note: Hi everyone! First, I want to say thank you for reading this fanfic. It has been tremendously fun for me to write. I'm posting a second update this week for two reasons. The first is that I've been waiting to write this scene for 18,000 words. I couldn't finish it and wait a week to post it. It was the initial scene I had in my mind that got me going on this whole thing. Second of all, I wanted to give you guys an extra dose because my updating may be slowing down for a little while. I'm going to be shifting a bit more of my focus to my original novels, which I am gearing up for submission to publishers. Balancing writing with being a mom and my job at the hospital can be interesting at times._

_That being said, this is about halfway done, and I have it planned to the end. It will be finished. There is much more in store for Kyna. Thank you so much for reading and following!_

* * *

><p>"This is easier than I thought," Kyna muttered to herself as she slipped through the shadows.<p>

It was obvious that the best time to move freely about the halls was during the evening meal, and on this night, the King had planned a second feast. The guards would be doubled outside, leaving her movement around the halls virtually unseen as long as she was careful. She felt confident, likely too confident.

_Don't get too arrogant. You're a nurse, not an Assassin. _

In fact, she had to keep telling herself that she was dealing with beings who were older, faster, and a hell of a lot smarter than she was. Her best bet was to move slowly and stay hidden, because explaining herself was the last thing she wanted to do.

There it was. The entrance to the throne room was framed with a giant stone arch, open and inviting. A long stone bridge led to the large wooden throne that rose in the centre of the chamber. The chair was incredible. The quality of its carving outmatched even the intricately detailed statues that sat on each side of the staircase that led to it. She paused for some time to marvel at the area. It was beautiful, but not excessive, being wrought from the very earth itself. She thought of sitting in the throne, but ultimately chose against it.

_He may kill me for that._

A noise caught her attention. It echoed through the hall in ripples. Footsteps. Someone was coming! Kyna sprinted down the bridge and into the shadows off to the one side of the chamber. She slipped easily into the darkness that the towering pillars and rocks created, just far away enough from the revealing glow of the lanterns to keep her hidden. She could only hope that she made it in time.

"Is he ready to be brought in?" Thranduil's voice echoed through the chamber, and it wasn't until he was halfway down the bridge that Kyna finally caught a glimpse of him.

He was dressed in the same long silver green robe that he had worn at the feast, and the same beautiful crown decorated his long blonde hair. In his hand, he held a long, beautifully ornate oaken staff. His steps were quick, purposeful, and Legolas followed quickly behind him.

"Yes," Legolas responded with a nod, "We have him in the holding chamber for whenever you are ready."

Thranduil ascended the stairs and sat in the chair of his office, his robes pooling at his feet. "I am ready. Bring him in."

Legolas turned at the doorway, vanishing. A moment later, he returned with multiple guards in tow, and Thorin Oakenshield, looking none too happy. His hands were not bound, so he must have chosen to remain compliant with the demands of the elves. He walked silently, his gaze focused on the throne.

"I assume you will tell me what you are doing in my lands?" Thranduil asked, his voice icy. "What exactly is your purpose here?"

"Like I told your son," Thorin spat, "We were searching for food. You have no reason to hold us here!"

"You are in my kingdom without my knowledge. That in itself is enough for me to keep you." Thranduil stood from his throne and carefully walked down the steps, his robe trailing behind him. He studied the dwarf for a long moment, stopping to stand right in front of him.

Even though Thranduil towered over the dwarf, Thorin was no less than him in presence. He stood firm, not responding at all to the elf king's words. He only watched him, his eyes narrowing as they followed his movements.

"Some may think your actions would indicate a plan of some sort. Perhaps this wandering does have a purpose. Perhaps you seek to reclaim what was lost to you long ago—the very thing that could bequeath upon you the right to call yourself King Under the Mountain." Thranduil clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke, pacing back and forth in front of Thorin. "I can see no other reason for your company trespassing unpermitted in my lands, rousing the wrath of the spiders that plague my people."

When Thorin again said nothing, Thranduil continued.

"I too seek something in the mountain. Something withheld from my people for too long. I offer you my help."

Thorin simply snorted at this, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Go on."

"I would set you and your company free if you agree to return the gems of my people. You have my word." Thranduil inclined his head, a stream of blonde hair falling over his shoulder.

Thorin turned his back on the elf king and held his hands open to either side of him. "Your word? I would not take your word even if it were the very end of all times. You would treat us like prisoners, throw us into cells, and then only offer us freedom only when it suits your purpose." His voice had risen substantially and echoed throughout the chamber, carrying down the passages and halls that led outwards. He finally turned to face Thranduil once more, his eyes filled with unbridled rage. "You deserted my people when we needed you most. Where were you when the great wyrm rained his wrath upon us? You have no honour."

The pure rage that filtered over Thranduil's smooth features was indescribable. The muscles in his jaw were so tense that the skin of his neck tightened. Anger burned in eyes, and they widened as his nostrils flared. Yet, despite the grave insult thrown upon him, he remained calm.

"I warned your kin of what their greed would call, but they would not listen." He began to ascend the staircase, his gaze never leaving the dwarf. "You are no different than your grandfather, Thorin Oakenshield." He raised a hand, and the guards quickly took hold of Thorin, "Remain here then, if it pleases you. I have more time than you can possibly comprehend." Thranduil seated himself in the throne, his hand grasping the oaken staff tightly as they ushered the dwarf from the room.

He sat in the silence before finally speaking into the emptiness. "It is in your best interest to come out now. I know you are here, even though you should not be."

Kyna froze. Dread filled her stomach, and she shut her eyes tightly. She was foolish to think that her actions would go unnoticed. The sound of footsteps echoed as Thranduil slowly walked down the steps, the fabric of his robes brushing the stone. The sound became louder and louder until it stopped, just about three feet away from the pillar she was standing behind.

Her heart hammered in her chest. He knew exactly where she was.

It was no use. Remaining concealed would only make her look more suspicious. Reluctantly, she stepped out, folding her hands behind her back and holding her head high. She met his gaze fearlessly, despite feeling the opposite.

"What are you doing here?" Thranduil asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at her. He did not look angry, but irritated.

He truly was a remarkable sight, and Kyna found her breath catching in her throat. What was wrong with her? Why all of a sudden did she act this way around him? Only a week ago, she had no problem telling him exactly what she thought of him. Now, for the first time in a good while, she found herself with nothing to say.

"I've never seen a dwarf." It was all she could come up with under his unrelenting gaze.

Thranduil took another few steps toward her, slowly closing the distance between them. When he stopped, he was only about a foot away from her. She felt that same twitch of nervousness in her stomach as she had when they collided in the hallway.

"You've never seen a dwarf?" He raised a brow at her. "That is the reason you took such a risk by hiding in here?"

Kyna winced. She had to find a way to change the subject and quickly. "Don't you think you were too harsh on him?"

"Harsh?" his words hissed sharply as he leaned forward, his hair falling over his shoulders. "Dwarves trespass on my lands, rouse the spiders that plague my people, and you call me harsh?"

_Okay, maybe that wasn't the best thing to change the subject with._

"Listen," Kyna said, exhaling sharply, "maybe that wasn't exactly the right way for me to put things. I know the elves and dwarves have issues with each other. He said some terrible things to you, but don't you think that locking him back in the prison indefinitely is a bit—much?"

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, their pale blue depths churning with emotion. He leaned even further towards her until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. "You have no idea what our history is, or what exactly the dwarves have done to my people. We used to trade freely with them, contract their work, and were on good terms until they betrayed us. Yet, even now, I was willing to release them if they promised to return what they took from us so long ago."

"The white gems." Kyna cleared her throat. He was so close to her now, and she could smell the scent of the forest on him. She attempted to take a step back, but the stone pillar stood firm behind her.

"Yes, the white gems." he breathed, his eyes suddenly searching hers. There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. "I do not understand you. You offer me council on matters you should not broach, go places you are not supposed to go, and speak your mind with no thought to the consequences, yet here I am, explaining myself to you."

Kyna swallowed. "If I make you so angry, than why do you keep me here?"

His robes, while tailored to his form, could not conceal his lean, yet muscular figure. Kyna felt herself become acutely aware of his presence next to her. She could feel the warmth that radiated from him, and it caused a feeling of longing to rush through her like a torrent.

"You do not anger me, Kyna. The way you constantly challenge me may try my patience, but I cannot lie and say that your mystery has not given me a respite from the endless darkness that has had my attention for so long. The last month has certainly been interesting to say the very least. I believe whatever you are is important. That is why I wanted you to stay. I was not expecting you to become such a focus. " Thranduil's breath had quickened and conflict raged in his eyes.

"So, that's it? I'm to be used as a pawn if whatever I am is important enough to you? That's the only reason you gave me this fake freedom?" Kyna's jaw clenched in anger, and her hands tightened into fists at her side. She turned her face to the side and pushed past him with the intention to leave.

Thranduil's hand shot out to the side of her, resting on the pillar behind her and blocking her exit. The motion caused her to fall back against the pillar, and his body pressed against hers. He placed a hand above her on the stone to steady himself, but made no move to break the contact. He looked down at her with a mixture of desire and curiosity, and his lips were only a hairsbreadth away from her own.

"I made my intentions very clear when I offered you the agreement, Kyna," he whispered, his breath moving slowly over her lips. "You agreed to my terms completely of your own will."

It was true. He had always been completely clear with his intentions.

"You left me little choice." She exhaled, her chest heaving against his. Her gaze lingered on his lips. She could almost taste him. "As you said yourself, I would have no chance alone in the forest."

As he was about to respond, the sudden approach of footsteps caused Thranduil to look up, breaking his connection with her. Kyna felt his hand slide away, and the warmth of his body recede as he straightened.

"The dwarves are secured father," Legolas spoke, pausing at the end of the bridge that led to the throne. He glanced back and forth between the two of them, his expression unreadable.

"Well enough." Thranduil nodded slowly. "Give me one moment. You can make sure Kyna returns to her quarters without any further incident of her being where she shouldn't be."

Legolas inclined his head and turned from the chamber. Once he was gone, Thranduil turned back to Kyna.

"If you feel I have given you no choice, than I will give you what you seek." He had reclaimed his calm expression and regarded her coolly. "I will not force you to discover what you are, despite that it could be of great use to me. Come the morrow, when the sun rises, there will be an escort waiting for you outside the halls. The elves will see you safely out of Mirkwood and to a place of safety of your choosing. If you choose to leave, then you can go. I will no longer hold you here against your will—if that is the only reason you stay." He stepped away from her, his eyes taking her in once more before he turned and took the steps back to the throne. "Legolas will take you back to your quarters."

Kyna remained against the pillar, still trying to catch her breath as she brushed away black strands of hair from her flushed face. Her heart still thrummed in her chest, only just now starting to slow. She glanced around the chambers absently before looking up to the throne. Thranduil was watching her pensively, but said nothing. Despite his aloof exterior, his eyes held an uncertainty.

She finally moved from the pillar and towards the exit, her mind swimming with more than she could process.

Why would he let her go all of a sudden? It was true she had agreed willingly to stay to help him discover what she was, but now she actually had a chance to get out of here safely and back home. She raised her fingers to touch her lips, recalling the feeling of his breath against them.

Did she actually want to go?


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – A Difficult Decision**

He had let her go. She could have potentially been important, significant, but it would be futile to even discover it if she was resistant to the idea. He could keep her against her will, but that may make it even harder to discover her mystery. It was pointless if she refused to work with him.

That was the only reason he let her go, wasn't it?

Thranduil tapped his fingers loudly on the table in his chambers and exhaled quickly. He stood in silence for a moment before pushing back from the desk and bringing his hands to his temples and pressing softly. His eyes shut, and his brows creased deeply in thought.

The elf king was dressed in a pair of black slacks and boots, leaving his toned torso bare. His hair was free, falling over his broad shoulders and down his back. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were well-defined, and the shadows from the candlelight danced along the smooth surface of his skin.

He could not get Kyna's face out of his mind. Her intriguing blue eyes haunted him to no end. This frustrated him, and the idea of her leaving left him angry and irritated. The desire to find out what she was had grown rapidly within him during the time she had spent in his kingdom.

He refused to admit that he may have enjoyed his time with the woman. Under any other circumstance, he wouldn't have even entertained any of this. His interest in her surely was solely due to her bloodline. Yet at this point, Thranduil was not sure of himself or what actually burned within him. Was it really the need to discover her lineage, or was it more?

He could not forget the feeling of her body warm against his, and the taste of her sweet breath as it brushed against his lips. Had Legolas not interrupted them, he was certain that he would have lost all sense and kissed her.

"Why this? Why her?" The elf king grunted in frustration, sweeping his hand across the desk and sending the contents of its surface clattering loudly to the floor.

Would she choose to leave? Of course she would. He was undeniably sure that she hated it here, that she only held disdain for him. Yet, despite her seething words, Kyna had not fought him when they were next to the pillar. He had felt her relax into him, and the thought caused the breath to catch in his throat.

Thranduil wouldn't admit it, but part of him wanted her to stay of her own accord. He needed her to _want_ to be there. He would not keep her against her will, despite knowing that it was likely the best option. Something within him would not allow it any further.

His long fingers wrapped around the edge of the desk, and the muscles of his arms rippled as he sent the table flying across the room. His face contorted in confusion and tension, his chest heaving with shallow and quick breaths.

If Kyna decided to leave, he would let her go.

Maybe it was best if she left. She was proving to be a distraction.

* * *

><p>Sleep was elusive.<p>

Kyna had tossed and turned for hours, her thoughts swimming with the events of the evening. No matter how hard she had tried to forget, she could not push the memory of what had happened in the throne room from her mind. She could still feel him next to her, his lips so close to hers, and the reluctance that filled her when he had pulled away. Those piercing blue eyes were all that she could see in the darkness of her room, and she ached with sensations she hadn't felt for a very long time.

Eventually, she slipped out of her bed and pulled on her clothing. It was late, and the halls were silent except for the faint footsteps of patrolling guards.

Tomorrow was her chance. It was her only option to leave this place and try to return to her old life. The king had given her the option to leave with a full escort willing to take her wherever she wished outside of the forest. Sure, there was a chance that she was stuck in this world, but she had to know for sure. She had to try. Yet, beneath the rationality that governed her thoughts, something visceral gnawed at her.

Did she actually want to leave? The thought was almost comical to entertain. This was a fictional world that didn't even exist. How could she stay here in good conscience. In fact, it was likely that all of it was a delusion created by her mind. Still, it felt so very real. It was obvious that whatever resided in her blood was important to the King. It was confusing to why he would drop it all so quickly and let her leave. It was unexpected. She would never forget the conflict in his features as he watched her leave the throne room.

Kyna slipped through the quiet halls of the caverns of Mirkwood. Silence and darkness surrounded her, leaving only the faintest glint of light from the few lanterns that burned during the night. It was just enough for her to navigate the dark passages without losing her way.

The dungeon was the one place in the caverns that was not quiet. As she followed the steps downwards, she heard the faint voices of the dwarves. The frustration was evident in their voices, and Kyna felt bad for them. Of course, she knew how it would all end up. They would certainly get out of here, but she also knew that interfering was something that she shouldn't do. Who knows what effect that would have on the story? However, that didn't mean she couldn't simply speak to them.

"Who is it?' Thorin's voice echoed as Kyna came into his view.

"A human lass," Balin replied, moving to the bars of his cell to study her. "What brings you down here?"

"I just can't sleep," Kyna replied, moving to seat herself on a piece of stone. She brushed her free hair behind her ears and watched the two dwarves with interest. "I have found myself with a difficult decision to make in the morning."

"Ah, well," Balin, inclined his head, "the morning is not far off, lass. What is it that has you so troubled? It's not often a human has such free reign in Thranduil's realm."

"I don't," Kyna brushed the sole of her boot along the ground, leaving a trail in the dust. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"The Woodland Realm keeps you prisoner as well," Thorin spoke up from the darkness. As he moved to the cell bars, his face was revealed in the lantern light. His skin was smudged with dirt, and his eyes watched her with curiosity.

"Kind of," Kyna nodded. "The king believes I can be of some use."

"Of course! That is all that resides in his poisonous mind," Thorin spat, anger lighting in his eyes. "All he's ever cared about is himself."

Kyna sighed. "I don't know."

"You would do well to not let yourself be manipulated by his venomous words, human. Thranduil deserted us when Smaug rained his fire upon Erebor."

"I know," Kyna spoke softly.

"What is your name, Lass?" Balin asked, stroking his long white beard.

"Kyna," she replied, turning her attention to the old dwarf.

"What decision causes you to be awake and wandering unchecked?" Balin continued, looking at her almost in sympathy. "Surely being down here is a risk for you."

"He says I can leave in the morning."

Balin was about to respond when Thorin's voice cut through the air like a knife, "Then leave. It's likely a ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wants. By giving you your freedom, he hopes you will stay, thinking that it's of your own will. If you stay, you will have done what he has planned the entire time."

Kyna's jaw clenched as she studied Thorin's stoic face. Could this have been Thranduil's intent from the beginning? Was all this just another way to get her to be compliant with his wishes?

"Thorin's words are harsh and tainted with the bitterness of our situation," Balin mused, leaning his head against the bars. "But, he is right, lass. You do not belong here. You belong with your people, wherever that is, just as we do."

"You will find your way back to your people," Kyna whispered, looking back and forth between the two dwarves.

"How do you know this?" Thorin asked, a frown playing over his lips. His dark waves of hair fell over one shoulder, and he looked at her intently.

"I just do. There is hope, no matter how small it may be." Kyna offered them a small smile, despite the dread that swam in her stomach.

Realization washed over Thorin's features, and his eyes twinkled slightly. "Bilbo."

Kyna said nothing, but simply watched the two of them for a moment. "Thank you for listening to me. I wasn't sure where else to go to get my thoughts out. It's funny, even though I've only ever read about you, I feel like I've known you for a long time."

"That's a peculiar thing to say." Balin blinked. "But, kind enough words. Strange to hear such from a human." A smile crinkled his wrinkled face. "Go now, Lass. If they find you down here, I'm sure you'll lose your chance to leave."

Thorin watched her with a furrowed brow. "The king is right to see something within you, Kyna. You seem very much out of place here. There is something very unusual about you."

Kyna offered one last nod to the two dwarves before slipping back into the shadows. As she made her way back to her chambers, the words of Thorin and Balin played over and over in her head. Perhaps it was the right decision. She needed to be where she belonged, and that certainly wasn't here.

A shadow caught her attention as she rounded the corner. She stopped in her tracks and waited until it was revealed in the light of the single lantern that hung from the ceiling. It was Thranduil.

His robe was thrown indiscriminately over his shoulders, and it was open at the front. His bare torso peeked out of the opening, and Kyna felt her eyes lingering on the smooth lines of chest and abdomen. He looked troubled. She swallowed and turned to leave. She had made her decision, and avoiding him was the best course of action. Her head had to remain clear. If what the dwarves said was true, and he was trying to manipulate her, the less contact the better.

"Why are you out here?" He had noticed her, and his blue eyes studied her intently. He made no hesitation and approached her directly, only stopping when he stood right before her.

"I can't sleep," she murmured. Her eyes followed the line of his neck and jaw, anything to avoid his gaze. She felt warmth wash over her cheeks and her body, the same rush that had overtaken her in the throne room earlier that night.

"You are not the only one that sleep eludes," he whispered, taking another step toward her. His brow furrowed deeply when she stepped back from him. "Why do you recoil from me?"

"I have made my decision, Thranduil." The words slipped out of her mouth with purpose, and she watched his face soften in surprise at the use of his name. She took another step back.

"And, what have you decided?" he asked, uncertainty in the depth of his eyes. There was something different about him, as though he had dropped the formal and distant mask he usually wore. He seemed vulnerable.

Kyna swallowed her reluctance down and took a deep breath. She finally looked up and met his gaze. The look in the King's eyes almost rendered her breathless, but she pushed through, finally speaking. "I will leave in the morning."

The silence was heavy as her words hung between them.

Then, Thranduil stepped forward, his eyes watching her with burning intensity. He slipped his long fingers behind her neck and into the long strands of her black hair to pull her against him. Kyna gasped as his mouth unexpectedly claimed hers, his warm lips pressing against hers with urgency. She felt her hands brush against his skin, and her fingers rest against his bare abdomen. Her body relaxed, and after a moment's hesitation she returned the kiss, savouring the sweet and earthy taste of him. A surge of desire and emotion coursed through her, and she found herself losing the fight against rationality.

The fingertips of his other hand slid down the side of her waist and rested on her hip, tugging her inward to close the rest of the distance between them. The smell of him invaded her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply as he deepened the kiss. His body was so warm, and the strong embrace of his arms quelled any anxiety that had remained within her.

The elf slowly pulled back from her, the silky strands of his blonde hair brushing against her cheek. He whispered, "I don't know what it is about you, but I can't get you off my mind. Stay."

Kyna felt her heart slam into the pit of her stomach. Right now she wanted to stay—more than anything. Yet, the logic in her mind told her she had to go. Everything felt so tangible, but she had to remind herself that this was not real. He was not real.

"I'm sorry." The words slipped out agonizingly, and Kyna turned her face away from him. "I don't belong here. No matter what you think I am, and what you think you can use me for, I have to leave." The words fought against every cell in her body to do the opposite.

Thranduil let his hand drop from her neck and rose to his full height. His eyes flashed with disappointment before returning to a calm formality. Kyna thought for a moment he would certainly have her taken back to the dungeon.

"As you wish," he spoke softly before turning and taking a few steps in the opposite direction. "I know you were down with the dwarves, Kyna. I would ask you to judge my actions by what you know of me, and not just the viewpoint they display. Despite what you may believe, I do not live my life with the sole goal of using others. However, I see you have made your decision, and I will stand by my word and not keep you here. You are free to go."

With that, he gave her one final lingering glance and slowly walked away, eventually vanishing into the darkness. Kyna simply stood in the hallway, her heart almost ready to break through her chest. Her entire body tingled with the urge to follow him. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done, and she closed her eyes to the faint sting of tears that threatened to slide down her cheeks.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – A Way Home**

"Will you come with me, Uilwen?" Kyna asked as she filled a small leather sack with the various items laid out on the table.

"I shouldn't," Uilwen replied, handing Kyna a small parcel of bread. "I only came to bring you these supplies. They should hopefully see you to your destination."

The healer's eyes studied her, and Kyna could feel the weight of her gaze. She finished packing the sack, and pulled the ties tightly closed.

"There will be an escort, Uilwen," Kyna pleaded with her, emotion evident in her light blue eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you would come. I'm going to miss you dearly."

"I'm unsure of why you have decided to leave." Uilwen reached up to grab a fresh sprig of Athelas from one of the higher shelves. She handed it to Kyna, her expression one of sadness. "You can't even remember where you are from. You don't even know where you are going. How will leaving solve anything?"

"I can't stay." Kyna shook her head with resolve, her jaw tightening. "I don't belong here, Uilwen. If anything, I need to try to get back home. I'm hoping if they take me back to where they found me, it will jog my memory. If it doesn't, I will get them to take me to the nearest human village and go from there." She paused for a moment, carefully tucking the Athelas into the top of the pack. "Please come? It should be safe on a sunny day like today."

Uilwen pondered this for a moment, the depths of her grey eyes uncertain, much like the calm before an unexpected storm. She exhaled softly, and placed her hands on her hips.

"For you, I will go." The healer reached for a small bag from a nearby cupboard and filled it with a few key things. She tied it easily around her waist, and it sat comfortably against the fabric of her green tunic.

Kyna smiled, throwing her own pack over one shoulder. She adjusted her sage coloured tunic, and brushed a few strands of her ebony hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck. Once she felt that she had everything, she followed Uilwen out of the apothecary.

As the two of them strode through the gates, dawn broke beyond the trees, its rays slithering through the forest like a golden snake. As expected, a small group of elves awaited their arrival. Legolas was among them. He was armed fully for battle, both his knives and bow positioned on his back.

"I thought you decided against coming, Uilwen," Legolas mentioned, stepping up to the healer.

"Kyna convinced me. I know I'm safe in your hands." The healer smiled warmly and squeezed the prince's shoulder.

"I am sure you are safe in your own hands, my friend. You've seen your share of battle." Legolas returned the smile, his eyes warm.

"That was a long time ago, Legolas. You were just a wee one. I fear my skills are not what they used to be. They have grown dull in the time I've spent with the plants," she replied, giving him a firm nod.

"Even so," Legolas continued, "the sun is with us today, lifting the veil of darkness. Our trip should be one of ease and little concern." The blonde elf turned to Kyna, his expression unreadable. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you wish to do?"

"Yes. I am ready to leave when you are." Kyna nodded, before glancing around the area.

_Of course he's not here._

Kyna swallowed down the feeling of regret that rose in her throat. Thranduil would not have shown up, not after what happened between them last night. He had asked her to stay, and she had refused. She brought a hand up to her lips. The feeling of his kiss still lingered there, soon to be replaced with the crisp morning breeze that filtered through the clearing. It was for the best. He wasn't real. None of this was.

The forest was quiet as they travelled, and only the occasional sound of wildlife broke the silence. Not much was said, and Kyna took comfort in that. There was little she had to say and was simply grateful that Uilwen had agreed to come. The healer walked beside her, content with simply enjoying the peace of the forest. It had been some time since such a day, a day where the darkness was kept at bay.

Kyna breathed deeply. The trip reminded her of the hikes she used to take in the woods when she was younger, but the woods of her memories were not nearly so large and dense. She stretched her arms out, focusing on the monotone sound of traffic that thrummed in the distance. The faintest sound of sirens could be heard, and she idly wondered if an accident had happened nearby. She was so used to the sounds that she didn't think twice about it at first.

Kyna stopped in her tracks, the colour draining from her face. She realized quickly that the sounds were clearly out of place, and it had to mean that somewhere, somehow, there was a connection to her world nearby.

"Can we stop please?" Kyna called forward to Legolas and the elves at the head of the contingent. "I need a moment in private."

"Make it quick." Legolas nodded in understanding, gesturing for the elves to stop. "We will rest here for a moment."

The elves stopped to rest, some seating themselves on rocks, and some climbing the trees to scan the area around them. It was quiet, and there was still no sign of any activity in the forest. A deer watched them curiously from behind a large tree, only resuming its grazing when it had decided they were not a threat.

"I'll be right back," Kyna whispered to Uilwen. The healer nodded, and moved to sit down on a large boulder, pulling open the pack at her waist.

Kyna slipped into the forest, moving toward the noise. The closer she got, the more pronounced it became. Yes, it was clearly traffic, and those were certainly sirens. There was no way she could have mistaken it. Her pace quickened, and she eventually stepped into a small clearing.

Her blue eyes widened at the sight that lay before her. Shimmering in the air near the back of the clearing was a transparent image. Snow flew wildly in the moving picture, causing some flakes to escape the portal and waft towards her. The chill in the gust that hit her face was very real, and as she got closer, she was able to make out a vehicle. It was hers, and it had clearly seen better days.

The metal frame was twisted dramatically, and the front end was wrapped around the trunk of a large tree. There was an ambulance off to one side and a police cruiser to the other. Medics surrounded the vehicle, while the police secured the scene. Blue and red lights flashed, reflecting off Kyna's pale skin as she watched through this strange window in the air, speechless. She could barely make out muffled voices.

"There's no one inside," one of the medics called out.

"Did they somehow escape?" the other called back in response, pulling one of the crumpled doors open.

Sure enough, her vehicle was empty, and she could see her bag sitting on the passenger side of her SUV. The windshield was shattered, leaving shards of glass all over the interior.

"There is a lot of blood on the steering wheel," the first medic observed, leaning into the damaged vehicle. "Call over the police. We need to get a search going. A person won't last long in a storm like that, especially if they are injured badly."

"This is real," Kyna whispered, her stomach flipping wildly. "I'm not there, because I'm here."

Kyna slowly stepped closer to the strange portal. It was circular and flickered at the edges where it met the air of this world. Everything was crystal clear, down to the scrape on the one side of her vehicle that she had gotten last year. Her eyes darted to the ambulance, reading the numbers on its side. She looked away, and then back again. The numbers remained the same. This was no dream. The dreaming mind often distorted text and numbers, but here they were, unchanging.

She reached out a hand, sliding it through the portal. It slipped in easily, and she immediately felt the chill of the winter storm against her hand. Home was within her reach. She only had to step through.

"Kyna?" a female voice whispered. "Kyna, what's that? What's going on?"

It was Uilwen's voice.

Kyna spun around to face Uilwen. The healer had a look that bordered on terror as she watched the scene through the portal.

"Uilwen," Kyna murmured. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe without the guards."

"I came to check on you. Legolas was concerned that you had been gone so long." Uilwen mumbled, taking a few steps backward, her hands clenching tightly at her side. "What is this, Kyna? Are you the reason for the darkness? Is this your magic?"

"No." Kyna raised her hands, shaking her head quickly. "I have no magic. This is something I got caught up in without knowing. I don't know how this is possible, or why it happened."

Uilwen's eyes flicked back and forth between Kyna and the portal, her expression apprehensive. The healer was about to turn away when her face suddenly twisted into a look of surprise. The colour began to drain from her skin, and a laboured gasp escaped her lips as her hands went to her stomach. Warm crimson blood seeped through the fabric of her tunic, and a large roughly hewn arrow protruded from her abdomen.

"Uilwen!" Terror washed over Kyna's face and she leaped forward, closing the distance between her and Uilwen as quickly as possible. Just as the healer collapsed into her arms, Kyna looked up and into the eyes of a massive, gnarled creature. "Help! Legolas! Someone!" she cried out, looking around the clearing fearfully.

No one responded.

The orc was enormous. He easily stood a foot taller than Kyna, and his green skin was taut over crudely bulging muscles. Dirt covered him from head to toe, ground into his skin and fingernails. His eyes were the colour of blood, and only small black pupils stared back at her from the redness. Parched and cracked lips parted to reveal a maw of razor sharp teeth encrusted with debris and dripping with saliva. His strong arms pulled back on the string of a crude bow, unleashing another shot.

"Damnit!" Kyna cursed, falling to the ground with Uilwen as the arrow zinged passed them. The elf was clearly going into shock, her eyes wide and unseeing.

Kyna remembered what the elf woman had said. Even though immortal, elves can die from a fatal wound, and judging by the amount of blood that had soaked through Uilwen's tunic, this wound was just that. She had nothing with her to properly take care of such an injury. If there was any time that she wished more than anything to be at the hospital, now was it. She laid Uilwen onto the ground and crouched, looking at the orc who had begun to approach.

Nothing could have put the terror Kyna felt into words. Not even the most belligerent drunk, or the most violent psychiatric patient, instilled the fear that she felt now constricting her throat. She glanced back to the portal. Surely she could just run, jump through it, and be fine. If she did that, Uilwen would surely die. Uilwen was here because she had asked her to come. Moisture stung her eyes as she looked back and forth between the portal and the healer. Her eyes closed for a moment, and her jaw clenched as the tears finally slid down her cheeks. The orc was nearly upon them.

Kyna stood her ground. She could not leave Uilwen here to die, not after everything the healer had done for her. She had no weapon, but there had to be a way to slow the creature down. She glanced to the ground, looking for something, anything heavy that she could pick up. Her hands found a large rock, and she grasped it firmly. Standing, she pulled her arm back, and hefted the rock towards the orc.

It flew through the air, hitting the beast square in the head. While the orc reeled for a moment, it easily recovered and sprinted towards her. Before she could move, Kyna felt strong hands begin to close around her neck. Kyna clawed at the beast's wrists, but to no avail. She was not strong enough to pull its knobbly fingers back. The orc glared at her, its gaze a void of endless madness and the smell of rot wafting from its open mouth. Its hold on her was still light, as though it enjoyed prolonging the fear that emanated off of her. Kyna blinked. She had been in a similar situation before.

_Violent patients._

Kyna's eyes widened as the idea came to her. Psychiatric patients often exhibited strength that they were not capable of, and her years of nursing had given her experience with such things. The chances of this working with something so strong was slim, but she had no other choice.

She removed her hands from the creature's wrists and put them both through the inside of the orc's arms until they were pointing toward the sky. With as much strength as she could muster, she twisted her body in a circle to the right, attempting to use the leverage of her arms to break the orc's hold on her.

Luckily, because the orc's hands had yet to tighten on her completely, the effort was enough to loosen his grip. Surprise registered on the beast's face as she ducked downward and escaped his hold, running in the other direction. Her chest heaved with the effort as she darted towards the edge of the small clearing.

At this time, she was thankful that she had paid attention during those crisis intervention training sessions. Had she waited a moment longer, the orc's hold on her would have been too tight. The creature's need to prolong her fear was just the moment she needed.

The orc was right behind her. Her actions angered it, and it barked in rage as it followed her. Her arms were sore, almost limp at her sides as her muscles gave out. It had taken all of her strength to break the hold, and she wasn't sure how long she could keep this up. She had no fighting experience, only the escape tactics that would only buy her time, not put down this creature. Although she was strong from her years of nursing, no amount of strength could help her if she didn't have the skills to put behind it.

The sound of metal rung in the clearing as the orc drew a roughly shaped sword. A sharp pain stung through her calf as the rusty edge of the blade bit into her skin, slicing deep into the muscle. She cried out as her leg gave out beneath her, causing her to tumble to the ground. The orc grasped her ankle and began to pull her towards him.

Kyna scraped her fingers into the dirt in front of her until she had enough to fill her hand. She twisted her body and threw the dirt at the orc's face, causing it to recoil as the soil filled its eyes. Its grip loosened on her ankle, and she crawled forward, positioning herself as to see her attacker. The blinded orc flailed towards her, its blood covered blade slashing hectically in front of it.

Kyna was quickly running out of ideas, and just as the orc raised the grotesque sword for a final blow, it froze in place, red eyes widening. The creature lurched forward violently as a silvery blade burst forth from its abdomen from behind, causing a thick black liquid to spew from its body. The orc tumbled forward, sliding off the blade and landing beside her in a heap on the grass.

"That was quite impressive, Kyna," a deep voice interrupted the silence.


End file.
